Apocalypse
by hetalian-homocake
Summary: In a world on the brink of destruction, Japan's untimely death inspires old feelings to reignite, new grudges between countries once thought inseparable, and new alliances between old enemies.
1. Loss

NOTE: Many characters will die, if they're not dead from the start. I apologize if your favorite character dies. I actually intend to kill off most of my favorite characters- oh, who am I kidding? They're all my favorites. The characters I intend to kill only die based on whether it makes sense for that country to fall to ruin.

"New York's gone," America sobbed. "Disney World's gone, Hollywood and Disneyland are both gone… It's all gone!"

Canada patted his brother's shoulder in a vain attempt to comfort him. The few countries left in the world sat around what remained of their own meeting hall. Canada was now one of the most powerful nations in the room, as he and a few others were now the providers of all the world's food.

All their homes had been destroyed. They were all dying of heat stroke. Half the world's nations- actually well over half- had turned to anarchy and either gone crazy or died.

Germany stood. "All right," he began, "I know ve have all been affected by zese global varming-induced disasters- some more zen ozers-" he nodded at France, who was fanning himself, drenched in sweat- "But I believe sat if we vork together, ve can make it through…"

Before he could finish, the door burst open (and fell down), and China rushed in, carrying a small, frail figure.

America stood, ready to offer help despite his own weakness. "China! What is it? What's…?"

"It's Japan," he panted. "His home has been flooded-aru."

He lay the fragile nation on the table. Everyone leaned in to get a closer look. Japan looked smaller than he ever had before. He was thin, dirty, sopping wet, and barely conscious.

He opened his eyes and turned his head slightly. His voice was barely a whisper. "Wang? Is that you?"

"I'm here, little brother," China said softly, choking back tears.

Japan smiled weakly. "I don't think I'm going to make it much ronger. You-"

"No!" America shouted, pushing China out of the way and leaning down to be closer to Japan. "You can't say that! You have to live- I'll take care of you!"

"No…" Japan coughed. "You have troubres of your own, Amelica… Don't waste your enelgy on me…"

America turned. "Matt! Get your ass over here!"

Canada hesitantly stood and approached the end of the table, where several nations huddled around Japan.

"yes?" he asked.

"Do something!" America yelled. Canada was taken back by his brother's sudden harshness, but he could see grief and pain in America's eyes behind the anger.

"i- i'm sorry, but there's nothing i can do…"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO?" America practically exploded. "There's ALWAYS something you can do. Look at you. You're dressed all nice, and you're fatter than I've ever seen you before. You're doing better than just about anyone in this room. For once in your life, someone not just notices, but actually NEEDS you, and you're telling me there's NOTHING YOU CAN DO?"

Everyone fell completely silent and stared at them. America glared at Canada, waiting for a response. Canada just gazed back in shock.

"… i'm sorry," he said at last, "but there's really nothing i can do."

"Can't you consult the Council of Northern Nations, Canada?" suggested Britain from his seat next to France, who was now using Britain's hands to fan himself.

"well, i suppose… no, they wouldn't…" Canada glanced over to the part of the table he had come from. Russia, Iceland, and a couple Scandinavians (though he would never say it out loud, Canada had some trouble telling them apart) sat there; fairly healthy and well-dressed. The CNN (no copyright laws were infringed, as television had stopped working) had been formed as soon as the freezing nations in the far north had realized what an advantage they now had. Frozen tundras and glaciers in their homes were now flourishing forests and fertile farmland. While the rest of the world slowly drowned, burned and starved to death, the members of the CNN were doing better than ever before. They now looked down on the once superior countries that now depended on them for survival.

"Prease…" Japan's weak voice drew the western nations back to the task at hand. "Don't fight because of me. Even if Canada did have the medicine… I have no home. You all know a nation is nothing without his home."

Nobody said a word. They all knew he was right, but not one wanted to admit it. Despite wars and tensions in the past, everyone had come to Japan. After the tension from WWII had ebbed away, Japan had come out of his shell and shared his personality with the rest of the world; and while they found him a little odd, he was such in a lovable way.

They stood and listened to Japan's strangled breathing for a minute or so; then one by one, each nation decided to step up and say a final goodbye.

"It vas a pleasure vorking vith you, Japan. You vill not be forgotten." Germany saluted Japan and stepped back.

"Noooo! Don't-a leave me, Japan! Germany said we was gonna get our old Axis club back together and ambushMMPH!" Germany covered Italy's mouth and dragged him away.

"Your home was very lovely, Japan. I… I don't know what else to say. I'll miss you," Britain said hesitantly. Come to think of it, he didn't know Japan all too well.

"Ah, cher, ze world will never be ze same wizout you," France said with a sad smile.

"Kiku…" Like almost everyone else in the room, China had long since began to cry. He wanted to give his little brother one last profound, four-thousand-year-old piece of wisdom, but now that he had the chance he found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Japan's frail body and sobbed.

America was about to approach when China stopped and straightened up. With an alarmed look on his face, he leaned back down and put his ear to Japan's chest.

"… I am now an only child-aru," he announced with no emotion in his voice. (Taiwan, Vietnam, Korea... all of Asia was pretty much gone by now due to the previously mentioned anarchy and insanity.)

Immediately he was pushed out of the way as America burst forward to check for himself. "No… No! It can't- he can't- oh god…" The self-proclaimed hero was now bawling like an infant. The other countries glanced at each other. America had experienced as much loss as everyone here, yet- while they were all deeply affected by this particular one- for some reason he seemed to be taking Japan's decease especially hard.

As all the attention in the room was directed at Japan and America- and Canada had a knack for avoiding attention anyway- Canada quietly slipped out of the crowd and sat back dow with the rest of the CNN.

"What is wrong, Canada?" Russia asked him. "You look a leetle sad."

"america seems really affected by japan's death," he replied. "i guess i feel a little bad for not trying to help when he asked me to."

Sweden looked up. "Japan is dead?"

Iceland glanced around. "Who's Japan?"

Ignoring them, Russia put his hand on Canada's shoulder, making the smaller nation cringe. "He will be fine. He is a strong country. And besides, why do you even need him anymore? You are a world power now. He eesn't."

"yeah… i suppose you're right," Canada said, and left it at that, but he didn't feel any better.


	2. Desperation

Japan was buried at sea with a short ceremony, few words and little honor. Only China, Italy, Germany and America attended.

The weeks following Japan's death dragged by slowly. There was very little communication between countries. America made constant efforts to get in contact with Canada and China, but neither responded. Desperate for company of some sort, America sought attention from anyone possible. but everyone was busy having their own problems- France and Italy were helping each other through a Mediterranean heat wave, Germany was trying to arrange a deal with the CNN in order to cope with a food shortage, Britain was fighting off floodwaters in his home… As usual, America was better off and left with nothing better to do.

xXxMeanwhile...xXx

Canada often snuck away from the CNN to smuggle food to America, but he never talked to his brother. He just couldn't take the risk. Now that he was powerful, all he wanted was to stop and help every country possible. But the other northerners- especially Sweden, who seemed to have taken charge- all strongly disapproved of his loving attitude.

"What say you, Canada?"

Canada looked up, brought out of his thoughts. The other Northern Nations were staring at him expectantly.

"… um… what?"

Everyone groaned and muttered.

"oh, uh, i'm sorry," he said quickly. "i guess i've just been distracted lately."

"We were discussing whether or not to lend Germany food and supplies," Sweden said matter-of-factly.

Canada glanced to the doorway of the CNN meeting hall, where Germany stood with a worried look on his face. His normally slicked-back hair was a mess, and he wore only a tattered black wife-beater and ripped-up shorts, and he looked skinnier than ever. Germany! Skinny!

Canada rubbed the back of his neck. "well… don't see why not," he said.

More groaning.

"The vote was mostly against him," explained Finland. "If you vote no, we'll be able to send him away and move on to our next order of business." Or at least Canada was pretty sure it was Finland.

"oh… okay, uh… no, then."

Germany's eyes widened. "Vat? Nein! Please! I'll starve to death!"

"That settles it. We are unanimous. You are dismissed, Germany," Iceland announced, ignoring the weaker nation's plea.

Germany gave a heavy sigh and proceeded to exit. He stopped and look back at Canada, who mouthed the words "I'm sorry." Germany just shook his head and left.

Canada slumped in his chair. He'd just done the wrong thing. He hated it when that happened. If only that bear was still here… it had been so long, Canada couldn't remember his name. It started with a K, right?… Then at least he'd have something to hug. Stupid bear. Why'd he have to go extinct?

Suddenly, Canada got an idea. A way he might be able to right that wrong.

He leapt up. "Hockey syrup maple stick!" he almost-shouted over-dramatically. "i just remembered something really important i need to do!"

The rest of the CNN looked at each other quizzically as Canada dashed out of the room.

xXxSomewhere to the south…xXx

America sat on a rock at the edge of the dried-up remains of Niagara Falls. He poured some syrup onto the piece of bread he held and took a bite. Canada came by every now and then and left small baskets of food for him. America greatly appreciated these, having gotten used to depending on his brother for a change, but he still wished Canada would stop to talk to him. He was SO lonely. And he desperately needed to talk to someone- anyway- about Japan. He needed closure of some sort.

"america?" called a voice. America looked up to see someone standing on the other side of the falls. He leapt to his feet, both giddy and mad at that country over there.

"Halt! You are standing on American soil! Retreat or I'll throw bread at you!"

"… what? al, it's me. canada."

"Authorized personnel only!"

"matthew williams? your brother?"

Canada briefly closed his eyes as a small piece of bread hit him in the face.

"You are a member of the Council of Northern Nations, sir, and therefore a threat. We have a strict no-northerners policy here." Why was he doing this? What would driving away his food source going to achieve/ America fought with himself over some strange attempt to prove his strength or independence or… something.

"but… i was just here yesterday…"

"It went into effect this morning."

"… what on earth is the matter with you?"

America broke. He ran across the dry riverbed and attacked his brother with a monster hug, knocking the breath out of Canada.

"I'm at the end of my game," he sobbed into Canada's shirt. "Japan's dead. Nobody will talk to me. I'm living off baskets of Canadian food left on my doorstep-

"hey!"

"- and JAPAN. IS. DEAD!"

"you mentioned that twice."

"IT'S TWICE AS IMPORTANT."

Canada shoved America off him. "i'm already doing everything i can for you," he said firmly. "if you want me to stop and let you starve, just say so."

America stared back, dumbfounded, as his brother continued. "in fact, you know, that's always been your problem. you never appreciate what you have. you're always looking for more. i know i have a lot more than most people right now, but at least i'm thankful for it! i came here to ask for your help with something, but forget it. just… just forget it."

"But… what should I do?" America cried.

"grow up," Canada replied over his shoulder as he left


	3. Limiations

"Prussia? I'm home," called Germany as he came through the door of what was left of his house. He paused and listened for the sound of heavy breathing. With a sigh of relief, he heard the wheezing and realized his brother was still here. Germany removed his heavy workbooks and entered the bedroom, where he found Prussia rocking back and forth in fetal position with his eyes locked on the wall.

"Hey, Gilbert," Germany said softly. The red eyes glanced at him briefly, then returned to the wall. Germany smiled and ruffled his brother's hair as he walked by. Prussia had always been a little psycho, and Germany had never really liked him, but they were still brothers. So when the world's end got to Prussia and drove him completely off his rocker, Germany took it upon himself to care for him.

"Those norzern nations are selfish dunkoffs," he told Prussia as he unpacked his things. "Even Canada has become a dick. Ven zey decided to cut me off, he just sat zere und… Ugh. Eizer vay, zey vouldn't give me so much as a scrap."

Prussia remained unresponsive, but Germany knew he'd heard him. Opening a cupboard, he took out and carefully unwrapped half a stale pretzel. He broke off two pieces and held one out for Prussia to take. The albino former empire just looked at it and then up at his little brother. Germany sighed. Prussia's condition had gotten worse. He wrenched his brother's mouth open and popped the pretzel piece in, then watched in relief as Prussia chewed and swallowed.

Germany sat on the floor next to Prussia and looked at his own pretzel piece. "So zis is vat it has come to," he mused. "Taking a veek to eat a little snack." e ate it and immediately wished he had some beer to wash it down with.

"I fish ve still had vurst," he said out loud. Prussia nodded slightly in agreement. Some wurst would be very nice right now.

xXxBack in the west…xXx

Canada had a problem.

He'd put together a basket much like what he did for America, only with fewer maple products and more meat. He knew Germany liked meat. The question was, how could he sneak food that far without being caught? If he took the Atlantic route, he'd be caught by Iceland. If he cut through the former state of Alaska, Russia would see him for sure.

What to do, what to do…

"Canada? Is that you?" came a distant voice. Canada turned to see someone in a small boat rowing towards him. He squinted to see the design on the flag flying from the crude mast.

"britain?"

The boat grew nearer, and Britain's face became visible. He sighed in belief. "Oh, thank goodness. I was worried I'd hit Iceland. Or America. Is it true he's gone mad?"

"kinda," Canada replied as he helped his father-like relative ashore. "so what brings you here?"

"Tsunami. Would have ended up like Japan if I hadn't gotten away in time. It's probably hitting France right about now…"

Tears formed in his eyes as he thought of what France might be experiencing. Canada patted his back, understanding everything. He had seen much more of Britain and France's "secret relationship" than America. He himself was worried about France. The nation had taken a significant part in raising him.

"it'll be okay, britain," he said comfortingly. "at least you're safe. the world would honestly be nothing without you."

Britain smiled a little. "R-really?"

"of course. or at least i think so."

"Well, thank you, Canada. I don't know what to say."

Canada shrugged. "so… um… do you need a place to stay? you can stay with me if you want…"

"Oh, bless you, Canada. Bless you."

Canada looked up at the sky. "i guess now's as good a time as any to go home."

The two walked alongside each other, discussing how much nicer life had once been. In that moment, on the warm Ontario coast, there was a glimmer of peace in this dying world.

The water was almost up to Canada's doorstep. "i'm moving to saskatchewan later this week," he told Britain, who was wondering about the half-submerged city of Ottawa.

"I can't thank you enough," Britain repeated for the third time that hour as they stepped inside.

"it was the least i could do," Canada replied. "you must be starving. would you like something to eat?"

"To show you how grateful I am, Canada, I would like to cook you supper."

"ehh… no, thank you…"

"Oh, I insist! I'll make you pudding and scones and…"

"NO! i mean… no. thank you. please, i'll take care of it. you just relax. you've had a long day. i'll put some water on for tea."

"Why, thank you so much again." Britain sat down as Canada entered the kitchen.

Suddenly, the front door burst open. A tall and easily recognized figure stepped in.

"Canada? Are you in here?" asked Russia. Britain shrunk at the sound of his voice. He luckily sat with his back to the door, and prayed Russia would not see him.

A crash came from the kitchen and Canada stumbled out. "oh, hi, russia," he gasped, having been startled by the nation's presence. "what brings you here?"

"Sweden is calling an emergency meeting," Russia explained. "Apparently the UK is completely flooded and nobody can find Britain's body."

Canada glanced at Britain, who shook his head.

"uh… could you have the meeting without me and just fill me in next time?"

Russia blinked. "Why is that, Canada?"

"oh, well… i'm… busy… crops and such…"

Knowing where this was going, Britain took a deep breath and turned around in his chair. "'Ello," he said to Russia with a wave.

Russia's eyes narrowed. Canada quickly cut in. "he washed up on my shore- i couldn't just let him drown…"

"Come outside. We need to do talking," the large nation said through gritted teeth. Canada gulped and followed Russia, but only after telling Britain to help himself to anything in the fridge.

"What took you so long?" asked Iceland, who had apparently been waiting outside the whole time.

"Britain is staying at Canada's house," Russia said with a condescending glance at Canada.

"i don't see what the big deal is," Canada said reluctantly, despite the glares he was receiving. "all i did was help a country in need. america did that all the time when he was-"

"You're not America. You're a Northern Nation," Iceland said, cutting him off. "and as a Northern nation, you have a responsibility to keep yourself separate from the common country."

"What Iceland is meaning to say," Russia explained, "is you don't need to help anyone, because you are better than them."

Canada put his hands on his hips and tried to look intimidating. "britain is my ally and my friend. if i don't help him when he needs it, i'm not being true to myself. if you guys have a problem with that, then i guess i don't want to be a part of the can anymore. I QUIT- whoa!"

Russia picked him up, easily, with one hand. "I'm sorry, but we cannot let you do that."

"You have resources that are way too valuable to us for you to quit," said Iceland. "Now come on. We need to get to Europe. We're late already.


	4. Confusion

Italy adjusted his hat and knocked on the door. He waited, then heard footsteps, then the door opened.

"Hello, Germany," he said with a smile.

"Vat is it?" asked Germany. He glanced at Italy's hat and robe and added, "Und vhy are you dressed like ze Pope?"

"There's a tsunami about to hit-a the Mediterranean, so I'm-a inviting everybody to come take shelter in the Vatican," Italy explained. "Would you like-a to come too?"

"Vill zere be food?"

"Probably not."

"Nein." He began to shut the door, but Italy stopped it with his foot.

"Please, Germanyyy!" he cried. "You're-a mah best friend! I'm-a probably gonna die today, and I don't want-a to do it without-a yooouuu!"

Germany sighed. "Italy, I'm not Catholic. It vouldn't feel right. My phone still vorks, I'll call ze CNN und see if zey'll help… but zey von't-"

He stopped as Italy dropped to his knees and hugged Germany's legs, sobbing some incoherent Italian nonsense. Germany sighed again and pulled the blubbering nation to his feet. When Italy still wouldn't calm down, Germany just hugged him and let him cry into his shirt. After a while, Italy hushed down and took a few deep breaths, and finally was able to speak again.

"Ve~ Germany, have I ever told you that I'm-a terrified of German women?"

Germany nodded. "In ze form of a song, I believe."

"Well.. I really am only scared of the women."

Germany smiled and held Italy closer. They stood together, not needing to say a word. Germany finally leaned down and gave Italy a slow, passionate kiss.

"You need to go," he said after they'd parted, "before Spain takes back control of your religion."

"Okay…" Italy hesitantly let go of Germany. "Ti amo…"

"Ich liebe dich," Germany said with a smile.

He watched as Italy left. It was only after he was out of sight that Germany realized he might never see Italy again. He wiped a single tear from his cheek and went back inside.

xXxMeanwhile…xXx

Canada sat with Russia holding him down by the shoulders. The Nordics- all of them except Denmark, who had perished due to floodwaters- sat across the table from him, all meeting his glance with cold, emotionless stares.

"listen, i don't understand why-Y OH GAH- OW-" Canada tried to begin, until Russia slightly tightened his grip, causing Canada to falter from the pain.

Iceland glanced at Norway, who shook his head.

Sweden glanced at the paper in front of him. "Canada, you have proven that you are not loyal to the Northern Nations. However, we cannot afford to expel you…"

"Get to the point!" hissed Iceland, suddenly wearing an evil grin.

Sweden adjusted his glasses. "Yes- I propose we place Canada under house arrest and make him a principality of Iceland."

Canada's jaw dropped. Iceland laughed.

"All in favor?"

Everyone (except Canada, of course) raised their hand.

"Then it's settled. Canada, you are no longer a nation. You are now property of Iceland, and by extent the Council of Northern Nations."

"no! you can't do this!" Canada cried, though he was barely audible. "i- i'm like the america of today! i bet you wouldn't mess with him like this!"

"Meeting adjourned," Finland announced in his sing-song voice. The nations began to go their separate ways. Iceland approached Russia, who produced a random length of rope from his pocket and used it to tie Canada up. He then shoved the terrified ex-nation into Iceland's arms, still protesting

"… you know, i know some people with pretty strong military powers still. all i'd have to do is make one phone call, and they'd all be up here giving you a what-for!"

"Shut up," Iceland commanded as he dragged Canada out of the room.

xXxBack in the south…xXx

Britain waited until long after sundown. He had an odd meal of a maple bar, some cheese and some burnt pancakes- even crappy leftovers tasted better than his own cooking, he realized to his dismay. Then he waited in the living room, reading some winter sports magazine and listening to an old Celine Dion album he found. Canada sure had strange taste, but at least it kept Britain entertained.

After an hour or two, he went outside and walked up and down the beach, searching for any sign of Canada. None being found, Britain went back inside and ended up falling asleep on the sofa.

Britain awoke with a start when the door flung open and Canada was shoved in with orders to pack up whatever he needed. He just stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, with tears streaming down his face.

Britain scrambled to his feet. "What is it? What…?"

"i… i-i'm n-not a n-n-nation anym-more," Canada choked out through the tears. "th-they m-m-made me p-part of i-iceland."

"WOT?" Britain shouted, all trace of the gentleman Canada knew suddenly gone. "HOW DARE THEY CLAIM ME OWN FLESH AN' BLOOD FOR THEIR OWN? If Iceland wants ye for 'imself, 'e'll 'ave to go through me. Outta me way, Mattie ol' boy. Daddy'll take care o' this."

Canada stepped aside, shocked at Britain's sudden change of character. He guessed this side of him might be from his days of a pirate, which had ended by around the time of Canada's birth.

"Listen up, ye bloody-" he heard Britain, begin, then scream and run back inside. "Why didn't you tell me Russia was with him?"

"you didn't ask. he's here for support, in case i put up a fight." Canada sighed and went to his bedroom to find a suitcase. Iceland came in and glared at Britain.

"Get off my property," he said through gritted teeth, "or you'll find yourself another Russian colony."

Britain nodded nervously, glancing at Russia, who was staring at him from the doorway with that eerie smile of his. Britain was about to leave, when Canada came out of his bedroom.

"wait," he said, handing Britain a cloth-covered basket. "if you get back to europe before it spoils, please give it to germany and tell him i'm sorry." This last part he whispered.

Britain nodded, hugged Canada and exited the house. He looked at his raft, which had sunken halfway, and realized he couldn't go anywhere across the water. With no other choice, he turned and headed south.

xXxAnd speaking of south…xXx

"'Japan! You're alive!' 'Yes, Amelica, my rove! I came back to rife so I could tell you I rove you!' 'Oh, I love you too, Japan! I always have!"

America lay on his stomach near a trash dump, making two dolls kiss. He'd spent hours digging through garbage to find every old toy he could. He used a Ken doll for himself and a figurine of an anime character he didn't recognize for Japan.

"'Grr, I'm Canada!'" he said, holding up a plush bear that vaguely resembled Kumajiro. "'I used to be really nice, but then I realized America was way cooler than me, and now I'm an asshole! Gasp! How is it you are alive, Japan?'" America held up the Ken doll. "'Stay back, my love! I shall handle this! STOP, CANADIAN FIEND! HE WAS BROUGHT BACK BY THE POWER OF LOVE, BUT YOU'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT THAT IS 'CAUSE YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE. AND NOW I, AMERICA, THE HERO, WILL DEFEAT YOU! AARGH!'" He hit the bear with the Ken until a voice brought him out of his little game.

"So have you figured out how a raven is like a writing desk yet?"

America looked up. "Huh?"

Britain shrugged. "Well, only Lewis Carroll ever came close, and he was madder than anybody…"

"The hell are you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

America stood, dropping his toys. "Who. Are. You?"

"I'm Britain, of course," the older nation replied, puzzled. "You know me perfectly well."

America shook his head and picked up a Barbie with bushy eyebrows drawn on with a marker. "THIS is Britain. Who are YOU?"

"I already told you, I'm Britain!"

"Prove it!" America crossed his arms. "Tell me something only Britain would know."

"Uhh… Like what?" America was terrible at keeping secrets of his own, and he didn't know any of Britain's.

"Tell me when I became a nation," America demanded. Then he added, "because I forgot."

"July fourth, seventeen-seventy-six."

"Oh, Britain, it IS you!" America cried, dropping the Barbie and hugging the confused old nation


	5. Helplessness

"Ve~ are we all here?" asked Italy.

Everyone in the room stopped talking as he looked around. "… France, Spain, Romano… Could anybody find-a Britain?"

"I sink he is dead," France called, choking on his words. "G-good riddance, I s-say…" The majority of the world only knew about the "hate" half of their love-hate relationship.

Italy blinked. "What's the matter, France?"

"It's nozing. I just have somezing in my eye… I need some air," France said quickly, getting up and going outside. Immediately, he dashed back in, screaming. Nobody had to ask him what was wrong- it had followed him.

Water.

Lots of it.

xXxNorth…xXx

Iceland's home was strange and smelled like brimstone. There was little vegetation and a lot of geysers.

Canada had cried the entire way here. Iceland allowed this, figuring it must be pretty upsetting to be stripped of one's status as a nation. He didn't attempt to comfort the ex-country, but he didn't silence him either.

"i w-wanna go h-h-hoooome," Canada blubbered as Iceland dragged him off the plane.

"This is your home now," Iceland responded emotionlessly. He led Canada upstairs to the spare bedroom. "And this is your room. Do whatever you like with it." He left Canada alone with his things and his thoughts.

The room was plain; with white walls, a wooden floor and one small window. The only furniture was an old iron-framed bed and a small nightstand. There was a tiny closet with only three hangers. Not knowing what else to do, Canada removed his jacket and hung it up, then sat down on the bed.

"this isn't so bad," he said out loud to himself. "all i have to do is hang up some posters, some pictures, maybe a couple pressed maple leaves… then it'll be just like home."

He sat there, forcing himself to smile, hugging his suitcase like he would… that… bear… Kume… Kuma… Whatever his name was… were he still alive. Canada rocked back and forth a few times, then dropped the suitcase and burst into tears.

xXxSouth…xXx

Had he really been so out of touch with the world that he didn't know what was happening to his own family?

"So… you're homeless, France is dead, and Canada isn't a nation?"

"France is PROBABLY dead," Britain corrected with a hint of sadness in his voice (that went undetected to the younger nation).

America was silent. Britain hugged him. They stood in each other's arms without needing to speak for quite some time.

"Hey, Britain?" asked America after a while.

"Hmm?"

"What are we, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… Are you my dad, or my brother, or what?"

Britain frowned. "You know… I'm not quite sure. I suppose I always considered myself your father, but come to think of it you're probably my brother…"

America nodded. The genealogy of a nation was a complicated thing that no one but the Latin-Mediterranean countries seemed to understand.

"Say, do you have any working boats or planes, or something of the sort?" Britain inquired randomly, remembering the basket for Germany.

"Uhh… Yeah, I think I still have a couple crappy old 747s that still work. Why?"

"I need to get to Europe. Soon."

"Well… I have nothing better to do… I'll come too."

xXxEast…xXx

Germany paced back and forth, trying to come up with a plan. For one thing, he needed to find food for himself and Prussia. So far the CNN had been no help whatsoever, and as far as he understood his neighboring countries were experiencing problems similar to his own. On top of that, he was worried about Italy. He and all his brothers- why did he have so many?- could very well be underwater right now.

Germany sighed and picked up the phone again. He'd tried the CNN headquarters in Sweden's place already. He'd tried Finland and Norway, as well. None had picked up.

He dialed and put the phone to his ear. It rang once… twice… three times…. six times….

Nope. Canada didn't answer either.

Desperate, Germany hung up and tried again. He hadn't hoped to get to this point….

"H-hello, Russia's residence," came a voice on the other end.

"… Lithuania?" Germany had forgotten about Russia's re-conquering of East Europe. Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Ukraine, Belarus, and Poland were all now property of Russia. They might as well just start going as "the Soviets" again….

"Uh, yeah… Who is this?" Lithuania's voice drew Germany out of his thoughts.

"Germany. Is Herr Russia zere?"

"No, I don't… (hey, Latvia, where'd the master go?)" Germany waited as the two Baltic states talked in the background. Something about Russia's sisters and a field of sunflowers….

"Yeah, no, he's not here right now. Can I take a message?"

"Just tell him Germany called about ze flood und ze shortage," Germany told him, and hung up.

Only one left to try… He hung up. He tried again. The phone rang. It stopped, and it appeared to be on the line, but no one spoke. "Hello?" he asked. "Is anyvone zere?"

"(Go on, answer it)," he heard what sounded like Iceland's voice in the background.

"… hello?" came a voice directed at Germany at last.

"Who is zis?" Germany asked. It sounded like… But no, it couldn't be….

"um… well… this is iceland's house…"

"Yes, but who is zis speaking?"

"… canada…"

Germany's eyes widened (not that Canada could see this, of course). "Canada? Vat are you doing at Iceland's house?"

"i live here. i'm an icelandic territory now…"

"Veird. I'm a little curious as to vhy…?"

"yeah, it is weird… it's complicated…."

"(Who is it?)" Germany heard Iceland ask.

"(uhh… germany…) this is germany, right?"

"Ja. Uh… so could I please speak vith Iceland?"

"(iceland, germany wants to talk to you…)

Iceland sighed and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, yes, I vas vondering if zere is anyzing you norzerners could do to help ze victims of ze Mediterranean flood und ze central European food shortage?"

There was a short silence.

"Hmm… No," Iceland said at last, and hung up


	6. Contrast

Russia smiled and closed his eyes as the warm breeze blew through his hair. He rubbed his bare arms and sighed contently. He no longer had to wear a heavy coat and scarf wherever he went. He still wore the scarf, of course, but that was just because he liked it.

Opening his eyes, Russia looked out upon the sea of golden-yellow in which his sisters playfully chased one another. Seeing him, they both shouted and beckoned for him to join them. He nodded and told them he'd be there in a minute.

Russia bent down and plucked one of the beautiful rings of gold from its stem. He stroked its soft petals and began to pluck them off one by one. He started walking in the general direction of Ukraine and Belarus as he did so… Everything was so peaceful, so perfect….

"Oh!" he said softly, realizing the sunflower in his hand was no longer sunny, as all the petals were gone. His eyes narrowed and his hand clenched into a fist, crushing what remained. Though it was barely visible from the outside, Russia could feel it clearly. A boiling rage deep inside him; one that was always there, waiting for the slightest provocation to come out and cause him to effortlessly destroy something. Russia was very aware of his own strength. At times it terrified him. He knew that, in all technicality, he was capable of singlehandedly destroying the entire planet. And it seemed he was finding himself in control of a new country every day… and the more he controlled, the more powerful- therefore dangerous- he became.

"Big brother! What are you doing? Get over here!"

Russia looked up at Belarus, who stood impatiently next to the busty Ukraine. Now that he complete control of her, Belarus no longer scared Russia like she used to.

He dropped the powdery remains of the sunflower and went to join his sisters. He didn't need to worry himself about his own deathly potential, or how he affected other nations, or even the current state of the world.

Russia gazed around at the sunflowers that surrounded him. The bright colors, the warm sun shining down on him, his sisters' laughter in the distance… it all made him so happy. He couldn't remember the last time he felt such incredible peace.

He picked another sunflower and smiled slightly wider than before.

Russia's dream had come true.

xXxSomewhere in the Vatican City…xXx

Spain and Romano were both gone. Italy had watched them drown, unable to help them from his perch. He was now floating with little space between his head and the ceiling.

France's head broke the surface of the water, splashing the younger nation. "It is no use," he gasped. "Zere is no way out."

"We're-a gonna die!" Italy wailed. "Just like-a mah brothers…"

"Zey were my brozers too," France pointed out, glancing down at the sunken corpses beneath their feet.

"Ve~ so it's-a just you and me now…"

"I guess so."

The two floated together in silence, taking in what they both knew what was going to happen very soon. They both occasionally glanced at each other with a solemn expression or a weak smile. The only sound was the dripping of water from the ceiling and the occasional sob from one of the two nations.

"I'm-a never gonna see Germany again," Italy mused at last.

"Non… and I will never see my Britain again, eizer…" He was madly in love with half the world, of course, but something about Britain seemed to stand out to him.

"At least I got-a to say goodbye…" Italy ignored what France said about Britain, figuring it was just another thing he didn't understand. There were many things Italy didn't understand.

"I wish I had gotten an opportunity like zat," France said. "Zis must be how America felt about Japan…."

Without another word, each turned and held the other. Italy buried his face in France's long (wet) hair.

"France?" he asked after a moment.

"Call me Francis. We're going to die anyway."

"Okay… Francis?"

"Oui, Feliciano?"

"I… I'm-a so scared…"

"I know, mon amour. I am too."

Suddenly, France kissed Italy. It was a simple kiss, but it certainly worked. Italy gladly accepted it. He loved Germany, and he was pretty sure that France loved Britain, but both knew this intimacy was the one thing anyone in their final hour needed most.

Finally, the two parted and opened their eyes. Italy blushed as he gazed at his big brother.

France sighed. "Shall we do zis, zen?"

It took Italy a moment to process what France was suggesting. Once it clicked, his eyes widened and his crying became audible, but he nodded.

"Togezer?" asked France.

"T-together."

Once again, the two embraced. Arms entangled and lips locked, they sank down into the dark Mediterranean water, never to be seen again


	7. Reflection

Britain sat next to America in the cockpit of the plane, looking out as they flew over the Atlantic, deep in thought

"Hey, America," he said after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Do you… need to talk about Japan?"

America glanced at Britain, who gazed intently back. Britain noticed tears forming in the younger nation's eyes, but America nodded.

"I just… wish I'd gotten a chance to say goodbye," he said with a sniff.

"But you'd seen many deaths by that point. Cuba, Australia-"

"Japan was different!" America snapped. More gently, he added, "he… he was to me what France was to you."

Britain stared at America. "You knew about…?"

America laughed. "Yeah, dude, the whole family knew. I'm not as stupid as you think I am, ya know."

"Now, wait a tick," Britain protested. "I do not think you're stupid…"

"Yeah, you do. Everyone does…" There was a touch of melancholy to America's voice as he said this. Then he shrugged it off. "I learned not to care about that a long time ago. I am dumb."

"You are not."

"Yes I am. Maybe it's 'cause I'm so young. Maybe I'll get smarter when I'm older. I dunno. But that's not my point…"

Britain listened, realizing this was the wisest thing he'd heard America say for at least two hundred years, if ever.

"… y'know, it seems that the whole stupid thing sort of goes with the Japan thing."

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno… it seems like Japan sort of… liked it. How dumb I was, I mean. How dumb I am. He saw the stupid cartoons and stuff I made, and even though you guys all thought they were dumb, he liked it and started making similar stuff."

"You inspired him."

"Exactly. And then he started making stuff that was sorta like mine, but cooler. Like anime. Anime's the coolest thing ever! And he invented it because of me! And I remember being there, with him, and both of us were pointing out the weird little quirks we saw in each other…" He smiled with nostalgia. "It's funny… I hated so much in World War Two. He's the reason I joined the war in the first place. But somehow, only, what, seventy years later… the guy was my best friend."

Britain nodded and said nothing.

America choked a little as the tears started making their way down his cheeks. "I… I loved him. And I never got a chance to tell him that. And now I never will."

The older nation shifted a little in his seat. "I understand how you feel," he said, thinking of France. The sooner he got back to Europe, the sooner he'd know what had become of the pervert he hated to love.

America felt a little better now that he'd been able to talk to someone. He still felt a lot of suppressed feelings deep down, but at least he'd had the opportunity to let off a little steam.

"I love you, Arthur," he said randomly.

Slightly taken aback by America's sudden show of affection and use of his human name, Britain faltered a little.

"I- I love you too, Alfred," he said at last.

America smiled. Britain smiled back. The rest of the plane trip was spent in silence.

xXxBack in Iceland…xXx

Canada got used to his duties as a territory fairly quickly. All he really had to do was do the basic chores around the house, look after things wen Iceland was gone, and stay out of the way when he was around. It honestly wasn't very different from how he was used to living, only no longer had the dignity of nationhood.

The phone call from Germany had been good practice. Iceland got surprisingly frequent calls from the other Nordics, and Canada had to learn to get into the habit of answering with a simple "iceland's residence".

Canada looked around his room as he lay on his bed. It was more homey now that the walls were decorated with memories- ancient photos of himself and America back in their lumberjack days (for a very short period of time, America had a beard), clippings from an old National Geographic article about elk migration in the Yukon, the biggest maple leaf anyone had ever seen. Iceland had allowed Canada to make one last trip home to get these and some other prized possessions. Among these had been his old stereo and CD collection (these are specified as "old" because CDs stopped being made about twenty years ago and are now ancient like vinyl records used to be). Justin, Shania, Michael, Celine… especially Celine.

He closed his eyes and lip-synced as her voice soothed him. "_You were my strength when I was weak, you were my voice when I couldn't speak…_" Not just Canada as a nation, but Matthew Williams as a person was and always had been Celine Dion's number one fan.

"Canada?" came a voice, along with a knock on the door. Canada quickly turned off the stereo and leapt to his feet. He opened the door to see Iceland there, with Norway behind him.

"yes?" he asked.

"Apparently Russia's bringing a couple of his territories to the meeting tomorrow," Iceland explained. "I thought it would only be fair if I invited you too."

"oh, yes, please, thank you, sir!" Canada responded immediately.

Iceland smiled. "And- now, this is just a rumor- I hear you might get a chance to put a word in for issues like the flood and the shortage, stuff like that…"

"thank you so much, sir!" Canada exclaimed. This was the most exciting thing that had happened to him since Britain showed up.

Iceland gave him a curt nod. "Carry on." Turning to Norway, he beckoned his brother to follow him. The two went back downstairs.

Canada smiled, closed the door and went back to his cheesy old '00s music.

xXxSomewhere in central Europe…xXx

Switzerland looked up. The blistering sun beat down upon where he sat in the dry, dead grass. He took another big bite of the delicious meat. This was the first time he'd eaten in a week.

He glanced at the severed head that sat next to him. The big, green eyes stared vacantly up at him as he stroked the faded purple ribbon in the hair that was so much like his own.

"You taste like Lichtenstein," he murmured, turning back to the arm he was eating.

Apparently staying neutral all the time wasn't always the way to go. When his loyalties lay nowhere, no one tried to help him in his time of need. And when people had realized the world was ending, they withdrew all their money from the bank, leaving Switzerland dirt poor and starving to death.

Speaking of death, he directed his attention back at the little sister who'd always adored him so much. He remembered losing his mind and taking everything out on Lichtenstein. He remembered the fear in her eyes as he pointed his gun at her for no apparent reason. He remembered the heartbrokenness he had felt for the one moment of coming back to his senses. Everything after that was a confused haze.

Switzerland shuddered as he felt it again. He hated himself. He was a despicable creature that didn't deserve to live- as a nation, as a human, as anything.

He looked at the pistol that rested in front of Lichtenstein's head. Picking it up and examining it, he smiled at her.

"This is for you, little sister," he said. He opened his mouth, pointed the pistol inside, and pulled the trigger


	8. Support

When the news of what happened on the Mediterranean reached Germany, he wept.

He actually fell to his knees, right there on his doorstep, in front of Austria, and wept.

Austria, who had been the one to tell him about the tragedy, wasn't sure how to react. He had known Germany for a very long time, and he'd never seen him like this. He awkwardly patted him on the head and went back home.

Germany realized after a while that he had been sitting in his open doorway the entire time, and that Austria was gone. He stood and struggled to compose himself, then slammed the door and went back inside.

Sitting down at the table, Germany wiped his tear-streaked face and rubbed his temples. Looking up, he saw Prussia staring at him silently from the other room.

Germany sighed. "Vat is it, East?"

Prussia blinked and said nothing. Of course he said nothing, Germany reminded himself. He hadn't spoken a word for weeks.

But then, to Germany's surprise, Prussia came and sat down across from him. He gazed intently at Germany with an almost apologetic look on his face. He cocked his head to the side in question.

"Italy… is dead," Germany explained with another sigh. He was starting to notice that he sighed a lot.

Prussia nodded and reached across the table to put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

Germany smiled sadly. Prussia was clearly doing much better today, for on top of it all he smiled back.

xXxSomewhere in the far east…xXx

The breeze rustled through the tree above him. He opened his eyes and inhaled deeply. This solitude was a nice change of pace. He hadn't lived like this in at least a thousand years. He couldn't remember. Time is hard to keep track of when you're over four thousand years old.

He had endured so many losses. Japan had been his only living relative that wasn't mentally disturbed beyond repair. When he'd lost Japan, he sort of panicked. He packed up whatever he couldn't live without and moved as far north as he could, in order to live a simple and isolated life. It was the only solution his panicking mind could come up with- to live alone, like he had all those years before western influence….

He looked up at the sound of a distant airplane. Who would have reason to travel over his home? Who would even have a working plane anyway? He sighed, got up and followed the aircraft, which appeared to be trying to land.

xXxNot too far above…xXx

"Where are we?" America asked, peering down at the wooded mountains that so jutted up from what was now a desert. The airplane may have worked, but the GPS did not.

"We must be somewhere in Asia," Britain responded. "Did I really miscalculate that far…?"

America groaned. "You said we were over Africa an hour ago. We should've turned north then."

"I said I THOUGHT we were over Africa."

"Great. Now we're not just out of gas, we're lost."

"We might be able to make it to Russia and ask him for fuel… trade some territory for it, perhaps…"

"No way, man. I'd rather die than ask that psycho for help." America winced as he remembered the Cold War… how scared he had been that Russia was going to sneak into his house and kill him in his sleep, what ridiculous precautions he had taken around Russia, and how financially ruined he'd been afterwards. He still owed China so much money….

"That's it!" America declared, making Britain jump. "We can ask China for help!"

"But nobody's heard from him for ages," Britain protested. "How do you even know he's still alive?"

"I don't," America replied. "We'll just have to take our chances."

Britain looked at the rugged landscape below. "I don't see any sign of civilization…"

"then we'll just do an emergency landing."

They circled until they found a decent, flat stretch of land to come down on. America got up and jumped out of the emergency exit. "You stay here," he told Britain. "I'll go find China."

"Oh no ye don't," Britain muttered, clambering out after him. "Wait! I'm coming with you!"

They hiked steadily upwards while trying to come up with a plan.

"Okay, so, we'll find China, and he'll lead us to a city where we can refuel… how will we get the plane there, though?" Britain wondered.

"Simple," America replied without missing a beat, "I'll drag it."

"I know you're strong, but I don't think anyone's THAT-"

"It's got wheels," America said with a shrug, cutting Britain off. "It'll be tough, but I think I can handle it."

"If you say so. I still don't-"

"Shh! Listen!" They stopped and listened to what sounded like footsteps coming towards them through the thick brush. It drew nearer, until finally someone stepped out and looked at them with a dull, glazed stare.

Both the western nations tensed. "Who the hell are you?" America demanded.

The man said nothing. He was clearly Asian in origin, and was dressed in some hardly recognizable, tattered old thing. His hair was long and unkempt, and he sported the scraggly start of a beard.

Britain squinted at the man. "America," he said slowly, "I think that's China."

"What? No way. Just look at him! He's too manly to be China. Like, seriously, I actually thought China was a chick once. I almost asked him out at one point."

The man sighed. "He's right. I am China-aru. Or at least I was…" Now that he spoke, his higher-pitched voice sounded familiar, and the two sighed in relief. However, though recognizable, it sounded hoarse and cracked.

"Aw, man, China, it's great to see you again, bro," America gasped. "I was starting to think you were dead or crazy or…" As he spoke, he approached China and held out his arms for a hug. China pulled away and narrowed his eyes.

Picking up on vibes that America didn't seem to get, Britain cleared his throat. "We're terribly sorry to inconvenience you, China, but we seem to have run out of fuel…"

"I heard your whole conversation-ahen," he said flatly. "Go get your plane. I will take you where you need to go."

"Wow… uh, thanks," America said, turning back in the direction they came.


	9. Analysis

"M-Mr. Russia! You're back!" Latvia stuttered, nearly dropping the laundry basket he carried. "I-I'm so sorry… I wasn't able to finish the laundry in time…"

Russia's eyes narrowed and his content smile faded. Latvia flinched as if he'd been struck by his terrifying master. "B-but I'm almost finished! This is the last load, and everything else is folded and put away…"

The larger nation said nothing and flicked Latvia aside like an unwanted speck of dust. Smiling again, he proceeded down the hall with a sister on either arm. Latvia wondered why he hadn't been physically harmed, but figured Russia would punish him later.

Entering the kitchen, where Poland pretended to work and Lithuania rushed to prepare lunch, Russia's smile grew. "I have good news," he announced.

The other occupants of the room glanced worriedly at each other. Russia's definition of "good news" wasn't always the same as their own.

"I have decided to bring Lithuania and Estonia to the next meeting," he continued. "The Council thinks you should have a voice. I don't see why, but I'll listen to them." For now.

Estonia, who listened from the hall beside Latvia, smiled as he thought of Finland. Lithuania was tempted to squeal and hug Poland, but he kept his cool as long as he was in Russia's presence.

"That is all." Russia turned and left, shaking Ukraine and Belarus off and retreating to his study. Sitting down at his desk, Russia opened a drawer and pulled out a tattered old map of the world. The majority of nations were shaded black- dead. Most that weren't black were gray- insane, isolated, not confirmed dead but probably dying. Most of the other Northern Nations were green- his allies. Himself and those he owned were blue. Those he had is eye on and planned to invade (that is, almost every country on the map) were outlined in blue. Everything else was blank.

Russia took a black marker and began to absentmindedly shade the recently lost Mediterranean area. Portugal, then Spain.. he glanced at the gray Switzerland and wondered if it was supposed to be black yet. Shrugging, he went on to color France, Italy, Greece, and so on, deep in thought about the state of the world.

Russia was no fool. He knew that Sweden thought of him as a thug to use as a pawn. He knew the Scandinavian did not fear him like the rest of the world did, like Sweden should have.

Putting down the black, he picked up the color that so far only applied to the USA- red. Sweden had been left blank out of suspicion, but now Russia felt he could not be trusted. The other Nordics were green with blue outlines, but Sweden was now bright red.

All Russia had ever really wanted was to be warm. His home had always been so cold, and it had made him act cold as well. Life had dealt him a freezing home, impossible strength, and a terrible evil deep inside him. A very unfair combination. Russia just wanted to be happy. He had envied Canada, who seemed to get along with everybody despite his physical weakness. Where had Russia gone wrong? When had he gotten to the point of being feared by everyone?

Then global warming had stepped in and melted all the snow. Russia had always told himself that if his home were warmer, he would't be so bitter; that the evil within him was some sort of snow demon fed by the cold. But now he did live in a warm place, and the ice in his heart still had not melted.

Russia understood everything about his situation. He knew that deep down, he was nothing but a monster. He knew that he was so powerful, he could easily destroy the world. In fact, he could probably rule the world without trying too hard. He already ruled pretty much all that was left of Eurasia…

The only real threat was that America. Even as a baby, the idiot had been freakishly strong, just like Russia himself. Russia stared at the scarlet ass on the map, contrasting so vividly from the green ex-nation above it. He hated that American pig more than he remembered ever hating anybody. Not only was America almost as strong as Russia, but given the world's current hatred for the CNN, America would undoubtedly have the sympathy and support of countless other nations. If it were to come to war, Russia would have no chance unless he took out America.

Great. Now he was upset. There were only two things (other than vodka, which he didn't drink quite as much now that it wasn't needed to avoid freezing to death) that soothed Russia when he felt like this. There being no sunflowers around, he went to find Latvia and Poland and brutally beat them for slacking off.

xXxBack in the west…xXx

Canada absentmindedly poked at the fish on his plate with his fork. Fish was all he had eaten since he'd left home. Canada had never considered himself an especially picky eater, but too much fish was too much fish.

He thought back to the syrup cellars he had left at home. The maple tree was nearly extinct, so Canada had harvested as much syrup as possible and stored it underground like wine. Until opened, syrup never spoils, so his supply could last forever if used sparingly.

"iceland?" he asked the Nordic nation across the table. Iceland wasn't very social, and he rarely spoke to Canada, but they did dine together.

Iceland looked up. "Hmm?"

"well… i was thinking… now that i work for you, i mean… it would make sense for me to cook for you, eh?"

Iceland frowned. "Your cooking is similar to America's, isn't it?" America had forced everyone to try his cooking- mainly to prove it was better than Britain's- and while everyone except Britain agreed that it was, nobody really liked it. He liked to fry everything. Not everything needed to be fried.

Canada shrugged. "well, when i feel lazy-" (which was most of the time) "- i guess i do tend to make a lot of american sort of food… but i'm a much better cook than him, i swear!"

"I don't know… how are you at pickling herring?"

Canada blinked. "i… uh… well…"

"That's what I thought," Iceland said with a nod, returning to his half-empty plate.

xXxMeanwhile in Scandinavia…xXx

Finland watched from the other room as Sweden worked on paperwork. He wasn't sure who terrified him more, Sweden or Russia; but since Sweden was practically his brother, and lately he'd felt like Russia was closing in on him, Finland had little choice but to stay with Sweden.

Ever since Denmark's demise, it seemed like all the Nordics had changed. Finland had just followed along, but the rest of them seemed more harsh, and emotionally farther apart. They seemed, well, colder. Ironic, as their homes were just now warm at last.

Sweden glanced up, seeing Finland, who visibly flinched. Sweden removed his glasses. "What is it, Finland?"

"Oh- nothing, nothing at all," Finland cried before disappearing around the corner. Why did Sweden scare him so much? He wasn't a bad person. Sweden had never been a bad person. He was just… scary.

Oh well, Finland thought, it could be worse. He could be living with Russia. Rumor had it that the giant nation physically abused his "servants" on a daily basis. Finland shuddered as he imagined himself in Estonia's shoes.

Finland sighed and wandered into the room in which he was temporarily living. Glancing around, he unzipped his bag and looked at the red velvet and white fur inside. The sight of the suit soothed him somehow, like it reminded him of the one day of the year that would always be the same.

"Only a few more months," he said to himself before closing the bag and leaving the room.


	10. Helpfulness

Austria stood by his window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the beach that was now so close to his house. How was it that such large, powerful countries as France and Spain were completely gone, yet he remained? He had the Alps to thank for blocking a large portion of his home from becoming totally submerged. But still- in all honesty, Austria was amazed he was still alive.

He sighed and crossed the room to his grand piano, which despite everything happening was still polished and perfectly tuned. Sitting down at the instrument, his fingers immediately jumped instinctively began to play Austria's favorite piece- Chopin's Nocturne in E flat, Opus 9 No. 2. The melancholy yet comforting melody soothed him like no other. It started out soft and peaceful, as his fingers lightly danced across the keys. As the song went on, it became gradually louder and more powerful, until Austria was practically banging on the piano, then it would ease back into the gentle chorus. Austria closed his eyes and ignored the nagging pain in his empty stomach. He would be smiling, if all his energy and concentration was not focused on the piano. Everything seemed orderly and peaceful when Austria played his precious instrument, even though he knew the world was far from such. His fingers fluttered among the higher keys, then went into the finish- soft and low, then one high note, and one last low note.

Hearing the sound of someone clapping, Austria turned and saw Hungary standing in the doorway.

"I let myself in," she immediately said before he could speak. "I brought you some soup."

Hungary reached into the basket she carried and pulled out a container. "I know it's not much," she continued, "but I had to do someting. I couldn't just let you starve." Oddly enough, Hungary hadn't been as affected by the drought or the shortage as Austria or Germany. While she certainly wasn't in especially good shape, she apparently had enough to spare a bowl of soup.

Austria stood as she handed him the container. He immediately began heading to the kitchen, being as starving as he was, and Hungary followed him. She watched as he silently poured the soup into one of his own bowls and sat down, delicately sipping spoonfuls of the spicy Hungarian dish.

After a moment, he looked up. "Do you need somezing?"

Hungary bit her lip. "I… vell…" she began reluctantly.

Austria set down his spoon and folded his hands. "You vat?"

Taking a deep breath, Hungary closed her eyes and spat out what she needed to say. "I… I think I'm going to make an alliance vith Russia."

Apart from a slight raise of eyebrows, Austria's facial expression did not change. The two stared at each other in silence for a good half minute.

"Vhy?" he inquired at last.

Hungary blinked quizzically. She had expected Austria to have a lot to say and many opinions to voice, or at least to express his anger and disgust with her via piano. This lack of words was very unusual for him.

"Vell…" she began, trying to put her thoughts into words, "I believe it vould be best. I'm so veak right now, and he's so strong, and I certainly don't vant him to be my enemy."

Austria nodded slightly and continued eating the soup she had made for him.

"I just thought you should know," Hungary added. "Russia vould probably take me by force anyvay."

She stifled a small gasp as Austria met her gaze with his cold, emotionless stare.

"I understand," he said curtly. Finishing the soup, he daintily patted his mouth with his napkin and stood. Without a word, he cleaned up and handed Hungary's container back to her, then left the room.

Still puzzled over why Austria was being so… so quiet, Hungary absentmindedly followed him back to the piano. She watched as he sat down and started picking out some variation of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. So he WAS upset.

"… I'll show myself out," Hungary said after a while. She turned and began to leave, when the music stopped. Austria did not look up from his piano, but he rested his arms at his sides.

"Elizabeta."

"Y-yes?"

Austria was silent for a moment, then simply said, "Zank you for ze soup."

Hungary smiled. "You're velcome."

She left, satisfied with how the encounter went. Austria continued playing, but it melted into a pleasant little string of Mozart sonatas. They both knew it wasn't just about the soup. He was thanking her for still caring about him.

xXxMeanwhile in Asia…xXx

"So, China, what exactly have you been doing this whole time?" asked Britain as they walked.

"Yeah, man," America panted as he struggled to keep up with them with the airplane dragging behind him. "And why are you all… ancient-ey and stuff?"

China shrugged. "I guess I just freaked out-aru," he said. "But it has been nice, being alone. Meditating, playing my erhu…"

"Air-hoo? The hell is that?" asked America, cutting him off.

China sighed in agitation.

"It's a musical instrument," Britain explained before China could reply. "Like a violin, but with only two strings."

China nodded, impressed with Britain's knowledge. "During the Tang dynasty, I used to-"

"It has a beautiful, haunting sound to it," Britain continued. "Incredibly inspiring. Sounds a bit like a dying cat."

China shot Britain a hateful glance and opened his mouth to respond, until America laughed. "Sounds like the sort of crazy thing you'd do, China. Hey, dude, I'm starving. You got any fortune cookies or something on you?"

They went on like this for quite some time. The trio continued steadily uphill until they finally found themselves on a mountain overlooking a city.

"This is it-aru," China announced. "Beijing."

America looked around and ave a nod of approval. "Not bad," he said. "It's no NYC, but it's not bad."

China pointed. "Over there is the airport," he told the westerners. "You can refuel there-aru."

"Sweet. Let's go!" America shouted, grabbing the two older nations and effortlessly tossing each one onto a wing of the plane.

"Now, what the devil are you…?" Britain began.

"Hold on!" America called as he ran around to the back of the plane. He gave it a shove and hopped onto the tail as it started to roll downhill. The craft steadily gained seed until it was zooming down the mountainside, with the three countries holding on for dear life. Britain and China both screamed and cursed America, who just clung to the plane's tail and laughed maniacally.

Britain squeezed his eyes shut and silently prayed for God to take him in the least painful way currently possible. He hugged closer to the wing as the plane reached the foot of the hill and before long was crashing through buildings, cars and bicycles.

Eventually the plane slowed to a grinding halt. Britain opened his eyes, realizing he was still in one piece, and leapt up to rejoice.

"We're here," America announced. "This is it, right?"

China looked up and nodded. "Yes, but… how did you…?"

"I'm the USA, dude. I can do anything."

Britain wanted to counteract that remark, but he looked up and saw that America had done it. This was the Beijing Capital International Airport, and America had somehow gotten them here on a landlocked airplane.

America stretched and jumped down. "Well, this plane's just about totaled," he said with a grin. "China, you got one we could borrow?"

China sighed. "Fine. Take whatever you want. But… can I go with you-aru?"

Britain raised his (incredibly thick) eyebrows. "I thought you wanted to be isolated."

"I did," China admitted, "but I think I am over it now."

America slapped the ancient Asian on the back. "Well, of course you can come with us."

Britain nodded. "It's the least we could do, after how helpful you were."

A part of America wanted to mention all the money he owed China, and that he couldn't afford to deny China anything he wanted. But he decided it was not a good idea to bring it up.

"Well, what're we waiting for? Let's go!" he called, dashing off to find a new airplane. Britain and China looked at each other, shrugged, and followed


	11. Realization

Russia and his two Baltic states arrived last to the meeting. Upon seeing them, Finland leapt up and rushed to greet Estonia with a hug. Russia and Sweden exchanged icy gazes, and then everyone sat down to begin the meeting.

"First order of business," Sweden announced, his incredibly deep voice making some around the room shudder. "I'm sure you're all avare of the flood in southern Europe. Since then, Russia has made an official list of all the recent deaths, if anyone vants to see it."

A piece of paper was passed around the table. Most nations glanced at it for a brief moment before passing it on. But when it reached Canada, he studied it hard, frantically searching up and down the list for one name.

Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Greece, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Sealand, Ireland, Scotland… Surely he must have missed it earlier in the list… Romania, Turkey… France.

As soon as he found it, Canada passed the list on to Norway without reading the rest of the names. He sat with tears in his eyes as the CNN moved on to discuss whether or not what used to be Africa could serve any purpose now that it was too hot to support human life. France was gone. Canada could hardly even comprehend that. His own father… or brother, or whatever France was to him… was gone forever. Sure, it was just another of many deaths, but this one was just so close to home. Canada was beginning to understand why other countries went insane and killed themselves.

Iceland glanced at Canada and noticed he was upset. Putting his hand on Canada's arm, Iceland whispered, "It's about France, right?"

Canada nodded and looked at Iceland, who smiled comfortingly. This was one advantage of being in another country's control, Canada realized, you're never alone. This brought back memories of France- sitting in his lap, crying into his shirt about being forgotten yet again by Britain and America. He remembered France stroking his hair and softly singing French lullabies to him. Then America became independent, and Britain was able to pay attention to Canada. Once he, Canada, gained independence, though… he only got a second glance from France when Quebec was born.

None of that mattered now. There hardly was a Britain. There was no France.

There was only Iceland.

xXxSouth of here…xXx

Germany awoke to the sound of a low-flying plane. Very low. Too low.

"Vat the…?" he muttered as he got up and rushed outside. What he found was an old airplane from some Chinese airline landing in his front yard. It screeched to a halt right in front of him, and after a moment an emergency exit popped open and America jumped out, followed by Britain and China, who both looked a bit ill from the landing.

"Aiyah…" China moaned. "How am I still alive-aru?"

"Yo, Germany," America called, approaching him cooly as the two nations behind him struggled to catch their breath.

"Vat is ze meaning of zis?" Germany spat. "Vhy are you…?"

"Sorry, dude… we would've landed at Britain's place, but it's sorta underwater… You were the closest non-northerner. Hope ya don't mind."

Germany sighed and glanced at Britain, then jumped. "You're alive? Ve all zought you'd drowned!"

Britain nodded. "Almost did. I just barely managed to escape to the Americas." His expression softened. "… What… what happened after I left? What with the storm and all?"

Germany looked down at his bare feet and didn't say a word.

Britain responded with a slight nod. "So… France is…?"

"All of zem." Germany glanced up. "Everyvone up to myself und Austria."

America said nothing and simply gave Britain a hug.

"Vell," Germany said, straightening up, "I suppose I should invite you inside… it's not like you have anyvhere else to go…"

"Thank you so much," Britain choked as America immediately dragged him into Germany's house. China shrugged and followed them.

Germany came in after them and shut the door. "East," he called, "Ve have visitors." He turned to said visitors, invited to have a seat, and went to put on pants. Shorts. Something more than underwear. For the record, the particular underwear he was wearing happened to be a pair of red boxers given to him by Italy as a Christmas gift many years ago- Germany had kept them, and had been wearing them ever since he found out about what happened to Italy.

"It's funny," Britain thought out loud as he sat down. "I never wanted France around… back when he was alive… but now that he's gone, I can't imagine wanting anything more than to have him back. I suppose I always took him for granted."

"We've all lost somebody, Britain," America said, much more quietly than usual. "At least we still have each other."

Britain smiled weakly at him. "Oh, shut it. I'm supposed to be the mature one, remember?"

Germany reentered the room. "I'd offer you somezing to eat," he continued, "but… you know…"

"It's cool, I get it," America told him. "In fact, I think we have some food on the plane you can have. China, bro, could you go grab some? Ooh, and bring me something too. Thanks."

China scowled at America, but still got up and went outside.

As Germany sat down and struck up a conversation with America, Britain let his gaze wander around the room until he spotted a pair of red eyes watching him from the other room. America didn't seem to notice, and Germany seemed to know but not acknowledge them. As soon as they saw him look in their direction, the eyes disappeared from Britain's view.

Britain got up, unnoticed by the other nations, and went into the room in which he'd seen the eyes. Here he found the crazed albino sitting in the corner, nervously glancing around with his scarlet eyes clouded with fear and confusion.

"… Prussia?" Britain whispered. Prussia answered with a slight nod.

Britain tried not to smirk. "So this is what's become of the great Prussian Empire. Reduced to naught but part of Germany, if anything."

He stooped down to as to be at eye level with Prussia. The albino returned his gaze with a strangely calm stare. Then, for the first time in ages, he spoke.

"You and I are two of a kind," Prussia whispered, his face slowly twisting into that familiar grin of his.

Britain blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're supposed to be dead, just like me. Za you I'm talking to ees nozing but a memory. You're only alive now because your family still remembers you."

Prussia held up his hand in Britain's face. To Britain's shock and dismay, it was slightly transparent. He could see Prussia's face through the hand.

"What…? How…?" he stammered.

"Zees vill be you someday," Prussia continued. "Ve all go zrough eet. Eet's how Rome lived so long after hees fall."

Britain stared at Prussia in horror. "A-are you saying… I'm a ghost?"

Prussia shrugged. "More or less."

"But… then… how is it that France and Japan and such are completely gone?"

"Zey aren't." was all Prussia said in reply.

Prussia went on to explain that a dead nation fades to nothing more slowly if, during life, they were more powerful and famous. As long as they are remembered, they will still exist to some extent. Rome was more memorable than Prussia, thus it took him much longer to disappear than it was taking Prussia. But over time, their ability to communicate with the living becomes limited. Eventually they are only able to speak with certain countries, if any, and only do it every now and then, if at all.

"Zat's vhy I never talk to Vest," he finished. "Because I can't."

Britain nodded, thanked Prussia, and shakily rose to his feet and left. He stepped into the other room, where Germany and America sat eating Chinese food while a very aggravated China pouted.

"Mmph! Wuh yah goim, Brimmph?" America asked with his mouth full as Britain headed outside.

"I… I need a breath of fresh air," he replied. "I'll probably be a while."

Britain stepped outside and immediately turned southwest, toward the ocean.

He had to find France.


	12. Alliance

Hungary sat stiffly in Russia's parlor, sipping some bland tea given to her by Poland (though it had taken Latvia a LOT to get Poland off his ass at all). Ukraine and Belarus sat on the sofa across from Hungary. Latvia stood next to Hungary's chair, uncomfortable with all the estrogen in the room.

"So," Ukraine prompted, "you want to rebuild you old alliance with my little brahther?"

Hungary nodded. "I zink it vould be best."

Ukraine smiled. "I guess dat makes us sisters or something. Don't you think, little seester?"

Belarus narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, saying nothing. Another woman in the equation just meant more competition for her.

Latvia started, glanced around, and briefly left the room. He returned with news that Mr. Russia was home. Russia's sisters immediately stood and frantically rushed to find Poland and arrange themselves in front of the door.

"We are home," Russia announced in his sweet voice as he shoved Lithuania and Estonia inside. They immediately stepped into line with Latvia, Belarus, Poland and Ukraine so that Russia would enter with his [slaves] shortest to tallest, like Russian nesting dolls, just the way he liked them.

"Welcome home, big brahther," Belarus said in a fake, overly cheerful voice.

"Mr. Russia, you have a visitor," Latvia told him.

This struck Russia's interest. "Oh? Where is he?"

"SHE is right in here," Ukraine said, gesturing toward the parlor as everyone else hurriedly took Russia's coat, offered him beverages, and so on.

Russia peered inside. Hungary turned around in her seat and greeted him with a slight wave.

"Ah, Hungary," Russia said with a smile as he entered the room and sat across from her. "Long time, no see."

"Let me cut to the chase," Hungary sniffed. "… I… vant to be allies again."

Russia frowned. "Dat's funny… I seem to remember you revolting against me last time."

"I know, but-"

"I think I know what is going on," Russia continued as a small, creepy grin spread across his face. "You are weak from hunger and in need of my help, da?"

Hungary looked down, not wanting to admit she was weak.

Russia's smile grew as he leaned in closer. "You knew I was going to attack and invade you either way. You just hoped if you asked nicely I would not be so forceful in mean."

He rested his hand on Hungary's leg. She tried to slap it away, but he grabbed her by the wrist and stood abruptly, yanking Hungary to her feet.

"You have underestimated me again," Russia hissed, a psychotic glint in his eyes. "Oh, Hungary, will you never learn?"

Hungary squirmed and struggled in his grasp, trying to yank her arm away. She finally gave up and stared up at Russia, her eyes full of fear.

Still grinning, Russia leaned down so as to whisper in Hungary's ear.

"You belong to me now."

xXxSouthwest…xXx

"Oh, hey, that reminds me… I know you already ate, but Britain had something he wanted to give you," America continued. "China, could you-"

"Get it yourself," China immediately snapped. "I knew I should have stayed at home-aru…"

America sighed. "Fine, hold on. I'll get it." He got up and went outside.

China and Germany sat in silence for a while.

"I vonder vhere Britain vent off to…?" Germany mused. China nodded absentmindedly.

"Okay, here it is!" America announced, returning with a basket of breads, cheeses, meats, a few fruits and vegetables, more meats, and maple syrup. He put the basket on the table, where Germany just stared at it, mouth agape.

"I- vat- vhy-?" he stuttered.

"I dunno. Britain and something about Canada being sorry. He didn't mention what he was sorry for, but he seemed to think you'd understand."

"Vell… I don't know vat to say…" Germany smiled. "I knew Canada vas different from ze ozer norzerners."

America sat down and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, my bro's pretty righteous… gets it from me, of course… Hey, did you hear that they made him part of Iceland?"

"Vat?"

"Yep. I heard it from Britain, and he didn't really know all the details, but apparently they found out Canada was sneaking me food and decided they couldn't trust him to be a nation anymore."

"Vow… So he's just living vith Iceland now?"

"Yeah, I think so. Man… Come to think of it, I sorta owe him my life. He went outta his way to make sure I was okay, and he ended up in trouble for it. Wish I said 'thank you' when I got the chance…" America sat back up. "How do you guys do it?"

Germany and China looked at him quizzically.

"Do what?" China asked.

"Live so long. And… and not let it all get to you. I mean… I'm only, like, three hundred, and I feel ready to quit. How do you manage to live for thousands of years and not just give up?"

"Vell…" Germany began. He glanced at China, hoping the older nation would know what to say.

China looked up thoughtfully. "Hmm… You need balance to survive-aru. And something to live for."

Germany nodded. "You can't go zrough life conquering everyvone around you, but you can't be everyvone's friend eizer. You need to find a survival mezod zat vorks for you, und you alone."

"You need your own culture," China added.

"Ja. Your own identity."

"Huh." was all America said in response. He wasn't sure he fully understood, but he didn't want to bother them with more questions. Except for one…

"Hey, you guys wanna form an alliance?"

"Vhy?" asked Germany, staring at America as if he had gone insane.

"Why not?" America said with a shrug. "We all hate the CNN. We all seem to be getting along pretty well. We all have resources the other ones need. Makes sense to me."

China nodded slowly. "I think America has a point-aru."

Germany was hesitant. "Vell… I zink it's a good idea, but ve all didn't exactly get off on ze right foot…"

"Don't sweat it, man, that was a long time ago. We're friends now. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to be friends."

"Vell… All right zen."

America smiled and put his hand in the middle of the table. China put his hand on top of America's, and Germany on top of his.

"We should give ourselves a cool name," America suggested. "You know- like the Allies, the Axis, the CNN, the UN, Team Rocket…?"

"Ve all come from different parts of ze vorld," Germany considered.

"Great idea! Hmm… We could be, like, 'the Three Corners of the Earth' or something."

"That sounds stupid," China immediately said.

America nodded. "Yeah, you're right… Oh! I got it! 'the United Southern Alliance!'"

Germany raised a brow. "… ze USA?"

"Exactly!"

China rolled his eyes and Germany facepalmed. But then they glanced doubtfully at each other.

"You know," China said at last, "I think that actually works-aru."

"… Ja. It sort of does. Okay, I'm in."

"Sweet!" America withdrew his hand so as to dramatically point upward. "Then it's settled. I hereby declare us- Germany, China, and America- the United Southern Alliance! Together, we'll make it through every crisis and overcome every enemy the North thinks it can throw at us!"

China and Germany both agreed and withdrew their hands. The three were now allies.


	13. Consultation

Britain walked along the coast, scanning the water for any sign of life. "FRANCE?" he called. "FRANCE, ARE YOU HERE?"

He turned slightly and immediately found himself face-to-face with the long-haired nation.

"Bonjour," France said with a grin.

Britain screamed and jumped. "Don't do that! You nearly scared me to death, ye bloody frog!"

"Zat is impossible," France replied with a smirk. "You're already dead."

"So I heard…" Britain shook his head and smiled. "Anyway… it really is great to see you again."

"Oh, non, you're just saying zat…"

"No, really, I mean it. I… I missed you… a LOT…"

France smiled and wrapped his arms around Britain's waist. "I missed you, too, mon amour," he breathed.

"Veee~!" came a distant voice. "Is that-a Britain?"

"Oui," called France, letting go of Britain and turning to see three figures coming toward them.

"Oh, great, is-a Britain dead too?" complained Romano as they drew nearer. Italy grabbed his brother's hand and dragged him in Britain's direction, leaving Greece behind to stare at a random rock on the ground.

"Britain!" Italy panted, stopping in front of him. "We was-a gonna invite you to our-a little get-together but we couldn't remember if you was Catholic or not and then we couldn't find you and we thought you were dead and then we died and now you're dead… Are you okay? What happened? How is everybody, what's-a going on…?" He ran out of breath and had to stop.

Britain smiled. "I managed to escape across the Atlantic, but I think I died along the way. Now, let's see… The CNN has completely abandoned the world, Canada isn't a nation anymore, Russia's on the verge of taking over the world, I think China's gone nut-burgers…:

"What about Germany?" Italy demanded.

"Oh, he's fine. I just saw him, in fact. He's hungry, but we gave him something to eat, so I think he's fine."

Italy sighed. "What a relief. I was worried he'd-a go crazy or something." He looked up with big, sad eyes. "Does he… does he-a miss me?"

"I… He didn't say," Britain said at last. "But… he seemed depressed. I'll bet he does."

Italy seemed to find this answer satisfactory.

"So, cher," France said, resting his head on Britain's shoulder (thus making him very uncomfortable, being in front of others), "what brings you to our sunken little corner of ze world?"

"I'm not really sure," Britain admitted. "Prussia told me I was dead, and I realized I might be able to find you… so here I am."

"Prussia's still around? I would zink he would have completely disappeared ages ago."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But apparently he's been living as a part of Germany all this time."

"Hmm."

Greece finally kicked the rock he had been staring at so intently, and approached the group. "Now I know how my mother felt," he murmured. "I guess I won't be coming back as a cat after all."

Ignoring him, France sighed contently and wrapped his arms around a very embarrassed Britain's neck.

"Will ye bugger off?" Britain snapped, shaking France off. Seeing the hurt look on France's face, he added more gently, "I don't think I'm ready for the touchy-feely stuff yet."

France nodded and eventually reverted to holding Britain's hand. The two proceeded to stroll down the beach, followed distantly by the Italy brothers, who chased each other around like over-energetic puppies.

Britain glanced at France, who smiled as he looked straight ahead. This was his old nemesis- the flamboyant, perverted bastard with whom Britain had done nothing but bicker since the beginning of time. And yet… somehow… Britain was pretty sure he had always loved France. And he was almost positive France loved him back.

Now they were deceased. While they still existed, they weren't nations anymore. Britain realized this meant they no longer had any political obligations to be enemies. They could get married, even, and no one would care.

"Francis?" he asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"I… I'd like you to know that I… er… I…" Britain found himself somehow unable to finish.

France smiled and gripped Britain's hand tighter. "Je t'aime, Arzer," he practically whispered.

Britain smiled back. He looked around at the clear blue sky, the gentle waves, and the small stretch of sand in the middle of the German landscape. He inhaled deeply and, for possibly the first time ever, Arthur Kirkland allowed himself to be truly happy.

xXxAnd in the north…xXx

Iceland left immediately upon getting home from the meeting, complaining of a headache. He went out on walks and such often- Canada was pretty sure it was in order to find solitude. The ever-antisocial Iceland rarely talked to Canada, or anyone, for that matter. Most of the time, if someone called him, he told Canada to answer and say he wasn't there or wasn't available.

Canada watched as Iceland tromped away down the dirt path, leaving him to his chores. He sighed and went to get a mop and a bucket. He thought about how strange it was for the water to come out hot by default as he filled up the bucket, and proceeded to clean the floor.

"I'm home," came Iceland's emotionless voice just as Canada was finishing up. "If you need me, I'll be out back." By this he meant he'd be soaking in the hot spring in the backyard.

Canada shrugged, snuck a piece of licorice from the jar in the kitchen, and got out a feather duster. He began to dust the pictures on Iceland's mantle, thinking about how he was more of a maid here than anything else. Iceland clearly didn't know much about managing a territory.

Canada stopped and stared at the picture in front of him. It was a simple portrait of Iceland looking playfully down at a bird in his lap. Picking up the framed photo, Canada studied the bird. It was black and white, and wore a little bow tie. The way it seemed to get along with Iceland was all too familiar.

"hey, iceland?" he called as he went outside. Iceland looked up at Canada, who held up the picture. "what's with the bird, eh?"

Iceland held out his arm, and Canada handed him the picture. He looked at it intently and smiled.

"Mr. Puffin," he murmured. "He was my best friend…"

"oh," Canada said as Iceland gave the picture back. "did he…?" His voice trailed off.

Iceland nodded. "I woke up one day and found him dead. Heat stroke, I think."

Canada recalled a very similar situation regarding the last time he saw Kumajiro (THAT was his name! Canada had been struggling to remember it for weeks now!). He sat down on the ground and glanced at the silver-haired nation in the water.

"i know what it's like," he said. "losing a pet, i mean."

Iceland responded with nothing but a slight nod.

Canada cocked his head to the side. "… you're not very social, are you?"

Iceland shrugged. "I'm used to living alone," he mumbled. Then he glanced up at Canada, gesturing to the hot spring in which he sat, and added, "You're welcome to come in here, you know."

Canada thought a moment, then removed his shoes and shirt, and slipped into the water.

"we seem to have a lot in common, eh?" he asked with a smile.

"I guess so," Iceland agreed.

"huh."

"Huh.


	14. Concern

"Vhy can't ve come to a diplomatic solution? You can't do this!" Hungary shrieked as Russia dragged her down the hall. He stopped and twisted around to glare at her. Seeing the terrified look on her face, Russia's expression cooled into a smirk.

"It looks like I can," he told her. He tightened his grip on Hungary's arm- now she was sure it would bruise- and continued walking.

"You should have thought of this last time," he continued, "before you turned against me."

"Is dat vat this is about? I thought ve got over that years ago," Hungary protested.

"YOU got over eet," Russia corrected, and left it at that. Reaching a door near the end of the hall, Russia opened it and shoved Hungary inside.

"You will stay here until I decide what to do with you," he commanded. He then slammed the door, locked it, and walked away.

"I am going out," he said flatly as he passed the Baltic states in the hall. He needed to go pick some sunflowers. Ever since his home had become warm enough to support them, it seemed Russia had begun drowning his sorrows and getting stress relief from sunflowers rather than vodka.

As soon as Russia was gone, all the household's occupants assembled in the kitchen.

"So," Estonia said, "what should we do about Miss Hungary?"

"One of us should talk to her or something," Poland said with a shrug.

"I could do it," Ukraine volunteered. "We were neighbors. She knows me best. I think she'd trust me."

Everyone except Belarus- who did nothing but pout nowadays- muttered in agreement as they tried very hard to stare at her face and not her chest.

Reaching down her shirt (from which everyone deliberately looked away), Ukraine pulled out a key and stepped out and down the hall. She unlocked the door and opened it, finding Hungary sitting on the crude cot staring at the floor.

"Hungary?" Ukraine asked softly as she crossed the room and sat next to her. "Are you okay?"

"I should have known she vould do dis," Hungary said bitterly. "I should have stayed home. I should have allied vith Austria. I should have done anyzing ozer den dis."

Ukraine patted her arm comfortingly. "You will be fine, I promise. Leetle Brahther isn't all dat bad once you get to know him."

"That's a lie," Hungary sniffed.

Ukraine paused. "Well… you have the rest of us," she offered. "At least you won't be alone."

"I guess so."

"We're all prisoners here," Ukraine continued quietly. "Some of us are more free den others, but Russia steel owns us all. Even me and Belarus. He says we're free to go any time we like, but he doesn't mean it. He would probably keel us if we tried."

"I know," Hungary told her. "I've been his ally before."

Ukraine sighed and stood up. "Well… Just remember you have someone here you can talk to."

Hungary smiled. "Zank you."

"Yell if you need someting… I have to lock da door."

"Okay- oh, vait… could you please call Austria and tell him vat has happened to me?"

"Sure," Ukraine said with a smile before leaving, the door clicking behind her.

xXxWest of here…xXx

Austria sighed as he threw out the dead, wilted edelweiss flowers he had tried so hard to keep alive. It only made sense- if you can't grow any crops, why should you be able to grow flowers?

Shaking his head, he wandered back to his piano and sat back down, only to stare at it blankly. He felt no inspiration. There was no music flowing through him, no invisible force pulling his fingers across the keys, nothing. What was wrong with him?

The phone rang. Austria stood and crossed the room to answer it. "Hello?"

"Um, yes, hello… dis is Ukraine," came the female voice on the other line.

Austria raised a brow. "Ukraine? Russia's sister? Vat do you vant?"

"Hungary wanted me to tell you eet didn't work out with my leetle brahther."

"'Didn't vork out' vith him? Vat do you mean?" He knew what she meant, he just had to be sure.

"Well… she's locked in da guest room right now, so..."

"Ah." Austria closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. "Vell, vhy did she expect me to care? It's her own fault for zinking she could negotiate vith him."

"I don't know. She just wanted me to tell you. You don't have to be such a dick about eet."

"Actually, fraulein, I do," Austria said matter-of-factly, and hung up. What happened to Hungary was none of his business, he told himself. Not only had their union ended very long ago, so they were just neighbors, but in this day and age it was every country for his or herself. And yet… Austria felt a pang of guilt. Hungary had gone out of her way to bring him food, after all. She deserved the same sort of treatment.

The two had drifted farther and farther apart over recent years. It didn't make sense, Austria realized- with everyone around them going crazy and dying, they should be driven closer together.

Austria sighed and picked up the phone again. Hungary had done so much for him, even after their divorce. And- while he had tried so hard to convince himself otherwise- Austria still loved her.

He dialed and put the phone to his ear. Seeing how essentially everyone else in Europe was dead, there was only one person Austria could think of to call.

"Yo, what up?" came a voice that did not belong to the person Austria thought he had called.

"Uhh… Who is zis?" Austria inquired, confused. Surely he didn't have the wrong number.

"America, dude. You wanna talk to Germany, right? Who is this?"

"Zis is Austria. Is Herr Germany available?"

"Umm… I think he went to take a dump or something. He'll be back in just a minute, if you just hold on… (Hey, China, where'd Germany go?)"

"China's zere too?" Austria asked. "Vat are you two doing at Germany's house?"

"We're all allies now. Pretty sweet, huh?"

"(You don't have to tell the whole world about it-aru!)" came China's voice in the background.

"… Should I call back later?"

"Nah, man, it's fine. He'll be right back- (shut up, China!)- in fact, I think that's him."

Austria listened impatiently as a door opened and shut, and America told Germany he had a phone call from Austria, and China complained that America was going to tell everyone about their alliance and get them killed… then there was an argument over whether or not secrecy was really necessary… Finally, Germany took the phone.

"Hallo? Are you still zere?"

Austria sighed in relief. "Germany… I need your help. Russia has taken Hungary as a prisoner."

"Vat do you vant me to do about it?" Germany grunted.

"(Whoa, what? What happened?)" America asked.

"(Russia took Hungary. Now shut up.) Listen, Austria, I'm sure vatever mess Hungary has gotten herself into is her own fault. Ve all have to fight our own battles-"

"(What? Hungary's in trouble?)" America cut Germany off. "(Dude, that's whack! We gotta go save Hungary! Who IS Hungary, anyway?)"

"(America. Ve are not ze police of ze vorld. You know as vell as I do zat minding ozer countries' business only gets you into trouble.) Vat vas I saying, Austria?"

"Fighting our own battles. I know. But… Hungary needs my help. Und I need your help."

Germany groaned.

"… Vat if Russia had kidnapped Italy?" Austria tried. It seemed to do the trick.

"… Oh," Germany said softly. "Vell zen… Come over here. Ve'll see if ve can figure somezing out."

"Danke," Austria said, then hung up


	15. Emotion

"Do you vant to go home?" Sweden asked Finland as he tidied up. The CNN headquarters was in his place, so Sweden didn't have to leave.

Finland shrugged. "I don't think so, no. Meester Russia steel scares the crap out of me."

"Okay." While Sweden had taken charge in the recent past, he still only spoke whatever was necessary. "Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Th-thank you," Finland replied with a sheepish smile.

Sweden stacked some papers on the table and existed the room without looking Finland in the eye. Finland simply followed him back to his house, which was within walking distance.

Finland thought deeply about his relationship with the nation in front of him as they walked in silence. Sweden had always been a little creepy, but he certainly wasn't as frightening to Finland now as he had once been. It was clear that Sweden had no bad intentions toward him, so he had no good reason to be unsettled by the more powerful country's presence. And to be honest, now that he thought about it, he wasn't. In fact- though he hated to admit it- Finland actually felt much safer with Sweden around. Now that he was allowing the weaker nation to stay with him, Finland couldn't help but wonder why….

"Hey, Sveden? Can I ask you a question?" he asked as they answered Sweden's house.

"Hm?"

"I, uh… well, it's a leetle awkward…" Finland rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. "Do you, uh… What exactly do you think of me?"

Sweden looked at him, his facial expression unchanging. Finland laughed nervously as Sweden stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.

"I care about you very deeply," Sweden said, his voice still monotonous despite his heartfelt words. "I think I might even love you."

Sweden finally let go of Finland, who gawked up at him, mouth agape. Sweden just stared back emotionlessly… but Finland thought he saw a glimmer of worry and caring in Sweden's eyes.

"Is that what you vanted to know?" Sweden asked at last, raising his eyebrows ever-so-slightly, almost seeming to hope he hadn't said the wrong thing.

"Uhh… Yes, thank you," Finland responded quickly. Sweden nodded and turned, ready to go about his own business. After a brief moment's consideration, Finland took a deep breath and made a decision.

"Wait!" he called. Sweden turned back around. Finland rushed toward him, leapt on him, wrapped his arms around his neck, and practically mashed their lips together. Sweden was stunned at first, but quickly went along with it.

They finally parted and opened their eyes. Finland laughed nervously again. "… I, uh… think I… love you too," he admitted.

Sweden smiled (yes, he actually smiled) and hugged Finland again, this time in a manner much less stiff and sudden than before. Then he patted Finland on the head and left to finish up some paperwork.

Finland wandered back to his room and sprawled out on the bed, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. He was in love with Sweden. Sweden knew this. And Sweden was in love with him.

xXx…?…xXx

Somewhere on a barren, lifeless beach, a thin and mangled body washed ashore. He coughed, water spilling out of his nose and mouth, and opened his eyes. How was he even alive? He had been dead. He actually somehow remembered being dead.

The man weakly crawled across the sand and grabbed the tattered, waterlogged piece of cloth. He wrapped it around his naked body. Even alone and half-conscious, he was still modest as always.

He sat there for a while, staring blankly into space, trying to comprehend the last stretch of time. He… had actually been on the other side. For some reason he couldn't remember it, but somehow he knew he had been there.

Glancing down at the cloth around him, the man realized it was the flag of his country. It appeared that he had been buried at sea wrapped in it. the silky white-and-red material was currently the only comfort he had in the world. He closed his eyes and tried to recall what had happened.

The last thing he remembered was Yao. In his habit of being as formal and polite as he was, he had called his brother by his surname, something he now regretted. Yao hadn't seem to notice, though. He remembered the grief that clouded the older nation's eyes, the worry on the faces that surrounded him… He remembered Alfred and Matthew arguing over whether or not they could help him, even though he himself knew he had no hope to be saved. And yet somehow, here he was now….

Struggling to his feet, the man staggered a few steps down the beach and collapsed under his own weight. He was too weak to even walk.

He moaned and rolled onto his back, gazing up at the sky. Was he even a nation anymore? Probably not, considering the rest of the world surely thought he was dead. He wondered what life was like without him, how countries were managing despite his disappearance, how Alfred…

Alfred! He'd almost completely forgotten! While Yao got immediate rights to be near him (being his brother and all), Alfred had wanted nothing more than to talk to him and be there for him and help him. In fact, Alfred had almost looked more concerned than Yao. Had he…?

He felt a tear trickle down his face. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and let the tears come. He had every reason to cry. He eventually blocked everything else out and just lay there on the beach, wrapped in a Japanese flag, crying as all manner of emotions flooded over him. He had just died and come back to life. He had no idea where he was, how long he'd been dead or what had happened to his loved ones. He had just realized how deeply his friend had loved him, and that he would probably never be restored to his full status as a nation. So many emotions….

Kiku Honda has every reason in the world to cry. And cry he did.

xXxSomewhere on the German coast…xXx

"So, what exactly happened to Switzerland?" Britain asked as they walked, just making conversation.

"He went-a totally whacko," Italy said cheerfully as usual. "Crazy nations don't-a usually last long after dying."

France nodded. "If you commit suicide, you die completely. If some ozer country kills you, too… but you'd have to be ridiculously weak for that."

"Like Switzerland's little sister," Italy added. "I passed them by on-a mah way to Germany's house. It was-a so creepy…" He shuddered.

"Hmm," said Britain. Suddenly he stopped and turned around. "I should probably be getting back…"

"What? Why?" France exclaimed, dashing ahead and blocking Britain's path. "You just got here! You don't have to leave so soon… you don't have to leave at all!"

"I'm sorry… but America and China are probably wondering where I am. At the very least, I need to go tell them I'm staying here with you."

France sighed. "Fine. But I'm coming wiz you."

"Wait, where are you going? Germany's house?" Italy asked. "I wanna come too!"

"Okay, you guys go to the damn potato eater's place," Romano said. "I'm stayin' here. C'mon, Greece, let's-a go find Spain."

Romano and Greece parted from the group, leaving only Britain, France and Italy, who began heading back inland.

"Now, remember," Britain reminded the other two, "they all think you're dead. So this is going to be quite a shock for them."

"Ve~ okay," Italy replied. "I just hope Germany will-a be happy to see me…"

"Of course he will," France said with a smile, playfully ruffling his little brother's hair. Italy looked up at him, grateful for the comforting words. There was a brief moment of awkwardness as they recalled the day they died, but both countries shrugged it off as France took Britain's hand again. That had been a heat of the moment thing. France had his Britain now, and soon Italy would have his Germany.

The trio continued walking without much dialogue, happy just to be in each other's company.


	16. Tension

Russia arrived home with a content facial expression and a bouquet of sunflowers. Without a word, he gave them to Latvia to put in a vase and shut himself in his study. He got out his map and shaded Hungary completely blue. The fight she had put up had put Russia in a bad mood, but he felt much better now.

Out of the blue, the phone rang. Russia had a telephone in his study, but he preferred to let one of his subordinates answer. That way, he wouldn't have to waste his time on an unimportant phone call.

"O Great and Fearful Russia," came Lithuania's shaky voice outside the door. "You have a phone call."

Russian picked up the phone. "Privet?"

"This is Sveden," said the low, flat voice on the other side of the line.

"Oh, hi, Sweden," Russia said in his sweetest, happiest, most innocent voice, masking his utter hatred for his so-called ally.

"I need to ask you a question," Sweden continued.

"Sure. What ees it?"

Sweden paused a moment. "… Do you have any plans regarding Feenland?"

"What do you mean?" Russia asked, still acting innocent.

"You know exactly vat I mean." Sweden's tone was almost completely unchanging, but Russia was beginning to detect a hint of anger and condescension in his voice.

Russia didn't respond.

"I see." Sweden sighed. "Vell… I'd like you to know dat if you ever try to hurt him or do anything to him…" His voice remained emotionless, despite his harsh words. "… I will kill you."

Russia tried not to laugh. "Is dat so?"

"Ja." Sweden sounded dead serious. "Feeland is my closest friend and ally. If necessary, I vill fight to de death to protect him."

Russia glanced down at his map. He studied the bright red Sweden, next to the blue-outlined finland.

"Fine," he said at last. "I don't want to fight my own ally over a country as useless as Finland." Not yet, anyhow.

"I don't believe you," Sweden said flatly, "but I vill allow dis excuse for now. I'm watching you, Russia. When you strike, I'll be ready."

Russia heard the click of Sweden hanging up. He put the phone down and chuckled to himself. It was almost as if Sweden wanted to pick a fight. Of course, Russia knew this wasn't the case. Sweden had simply seen him creeping up in the shadows, and wanted him to know his presence had been detected. Sweden's guard was up. Attacking Finland without stirring up much trouble was out of the question now. And Sweden would probably warn the rest of the CNN, so any fellow northerner would be impossible without stirring up a riot. But the demon inside Russia craved power, and he simply couldn't let it go hungry.

Which is why he decided to direct his attention on the large Asian nation to his south.

xXxAnd right where we left them…xXx

Canada's eyes flew open and he sat up straight. "I'm awake!" he shouted. Or at least it was shouting for his standards. He glanced at Iceland, who snickered. They were still in the hot spring, and apparently Canada had fallen asleep.

"Are you really that worn out?" Iceland asked with a smile.

Canada laughed. "i guess so. heat always tends to make me drowsy."

"Really? Not me." Iceland stretched and leaned back as he spoke. "I could never be warm enough. I could live on the equator and still feel chilly. Well, maybe not now…"

Canada smiled. Somehow, the picture of Mr. Puffin had gotten Iceland out of his shell. Canada was surprised at how well they were getting along.

"i always kind of liked the cold," Canada went on. "maybe it's just what i'm used to… but i always used to go hiking every morning, no matter what the weather was like. i'd hike up this mountain and stand on this cliff and watch the sun rise. it was actually nicer in the winter- with the cold, refreshing air, and the way the sun shined on the snow… america used to come with me every now and then, but he eventually got preoccupied with other things and forgot me…"

Iceland nodded slowly. "Brothers are like that sometimes," he said. "Norway once abandoned me and left me in Denmark's control. It was awful. And he's not even anything like America… That says something."

"yeah," Canada agreed. "maybe that's how all big brothers are."

"Mm-hmm," replied Iceland absentmindedly. Canada started as he felt his arm brush against Iceland's. He looked up and realized how close they now were to each other, considering they had started out sitting on almost opposite sides of the hot spring.

Iceland glanced away, and Canada felt the silver-haired nation nonchalantly take hold of his hand.

"… iceland…" Canada began uncomfortably, but Iceland quickly turned and shushed him. Canada stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights as Iceland slowly leaned in and…

The phone rang.

Iceland, who had been less than an inch away from Canada's face, retracted and groaned.

"Fjandinn," he muttered as he stood and climbed out of the water. "Stay here, Canada, I'll get it." He went inside, leaving Canada alone with his thoughts.

Canada sat in the hot water, slightly confused and experiencing mixed feelings about what had just happened. The only person who had ever approached him in that manner was America, who had been EXTREMELY drunk at the time.

After a few minutes, Iceland came out of his house, fully clothed and toweling his hair off.

"go dry off and get dressed," he commanded.

"what…? who…? why…?" Canada stammered.

"That was Sweden. He's worried Russia's gonna cross the Pacific and attack you for some reason," Iceland explained. "We're going to your home just to make sure it's safe and well-guarded."

"oh… um… okay…" Canada awkwardly clambered out of the water and took the towel Iceland had brought him. He dried himself off, grabbed his shirt off the ground and went inside. Heading upstairs, Canada stepped into his room and changed his pants, as he had been wearing them in the water.

Coming back downstairs, fully clothed, he found Iceland standing the door waiting for him. They walked outside together in silence.

Finally, Canada cleared his throat. "so… what was up with…?"

"I'm sorry," Iceland immediately responded. "I just..."

"don't be."

"Huh?"

"don't be sorry. i… actually… sort of…" Canada's voice grew gradually quieter until it was inaudible.

"What was that?"

Canada said nothing and took Iceland's hand. If his face wasn't already bright red from what Iceland had pulled earlier, it would be turning red now.

Iceland smiled and squeezed Canada's hand. This could work, he decided. For once, Iceland wasn't alone. And neither was Canada


	17. Preparation

Austria hated leaving his house. He hated the outdoors, and he hated being away from his piano. However, he also hated the thought of Hungary living with Russia.

He sighed and knocked on Germany's door. Germany answered and invited him in. America stood up upon seeing Austria and approached him to shake his hand.

"I loved your work in 'the Sound of Music,'" he said with a smile. Germany rolled his eyes and invited Austria to sit down.

"So," Germany began, "vat ve need is a plan-"

"We need to sneak attack the Rusky bastard and show him who's boss," America interrupted. "We'll send in sweeper spies disguised as normal citizens- but they're actually cyborgs! And by the time Russia realizes they're cyborgs and not people, it'll be too late, cuz I'll be dropping an atomic bomb on Moscow-"

"NEIN!" Germany's booming voice caused America to cease speaking with a small squeak. "Even if zat vasn't a stupid idea, ve can't turn to nuclear varfare. If you und Russia go to nuclear var, you could easily kill us all."

"But I'm almost as strong as him," America protested. "Combined with the rest of you, I bet I could beat him easy."

"Who put you in charge-aru?" China snapped. "I'm the oldest here. I should be making the plans."

"But I'm the hero, remember? And besides, I came up with our group name."

"That doesn't put you in charge-aru!"

Germany stepped in. "If you two can't act like mature adults, zen I vill take charge. Do eizer of you really vant zat?"

"No, sir," they both said simultaneously, sitting back down.

"Now, Austria," Germany tried to continue, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. He sighed and went to answer it.

"'Ello, Germany," Britain said with a smug smile. An I-know-something-you-don't-know sort of smile.

"Ah, you're back. Ve vere just-"

"Hush. I need to show you something. See, I was out taking a stroll along the beach when I happened upon… er…" he stopped and stepped out of the way.

"Veeee~!" was all Italy could say before leaping tackling Germany, leaping on him with a full-body hug, seemingly laughing and crying at the same time.

"F-Feliciano?" Germany pulled the blubbering Italian off him, just so he could see his face clearly. Tears welled up in Germany's blue eyes, and after a split-second he embraced Italy again, sobbing like only Austria had ever seen him before (this being, of course, when Italy died).

"Dude, what? Italy's alive?" America stood up and approached them, paying little attention to the state of Italy and Germany's relationship. France also stepped inside. The attention immediately swiveled to him- except for Germany, of course, who was currently vowing never to let go of Italy again.

Once the excitement in the room had settled down, and everyone sat back down (including Germany, who sat with Italy on his lap), Britain explained the whole death thing to the live nations. With help from France and Italy- and nods from Prussia, who watched from the other room- he managed to explain to them more or less the process of a country's death, as well as how he and the others were merely what traces were left of the nations that once were.

"So… you guys are all ghosts?" America asked hesitantly.

"We're ze nation equivalent, oui," France replied.

"Really? That is AWESOME," the younger nation added with a grin, then proceeded to bombard them with questions. "Can you walk through walls? Can you fly? Ooh- can you turn invisible? Oh! Oh! Can you do that thing where blood drips out of your mouth and spiders crawl out of your eyes? Well, can't you at least try?…" and so on.

China stared down at the table, an intense expression on his face. "If no one is really dead…" He looked up at America, eyes wide.

America stopped trying to walk through France and looked at China. "Huh?"

"Japan!" China hissed as he leapt to his feet. "He could still be alive-aru!"

America's eyes widened with realization. "… Then we can't waste any time! We gotta go find him!"

Austria stood. "But vat about Hungary?"

America shook his head. "Don't know, don't care. You can join our alliance and figure something out with Germany. We gotta go. C'mon, China."

China stopped. "Maybe we should focus on the task at hand-aru," he said quietly.

"Fine. You can stay here and help some stranger instead of your own brother," America said harshly. "But there's a chance Japan is still out there, and I'm not gonna rest until I find him. Be back soon, homies. Peace."

Everyone was silent as America left. Nobody tried to stop him, and nobody offered to go with him.

"I hope he finds Japan," Italy said at last, squirming a bit in Germany's arms.

"Vell?" asked Austria impatiently. "Are ve going to make plans to save Hungary or not?"

Germany shook his head. "Even vith America, I'm not sure there's anything ve can do. I mean… Zis is Russia ve're dealing vith. Not just Russia, eizer- he's ze Soviet Union again. Und he has ze Nordics on his side, too. Half of us aren't even live nations anymore."

"You know," Britain said thoughtfully, "Canada's loyalties lie more with us than the Northerners… Part of Iceland or not, he's pretty powerful…"

"I really vant to avoid going to var right now," Germany insisted. "I'm sorry, Austria, but Hungary is not vorth it."

"But," Austria protested, "vat if-"

"I vouldn't go to var over Italy eizer," Germany said quickly. "Not under zese circumstances, anyhow." He glanced down worriedly at Italy, who smiled and nodded, letting him know it was okay.

"I wouldn't-a do anything stupid for you either, cuz I know you wouldn't want me to," Italy said sweetly.

Austria sat back down, defeated.

"By ze vay… Vould you like to join ze United Souzern Alliance?" Germany asked.

Austria shrugged. "Ja, I guess so. It's not like I have anyzing better to do."

Germany glanced at China, who nodded in approval.

Italy looked up. "Ooh, I wanna join!"

Germany raised a brow. "Vell… you're not exactly a country anymore…"

"Don't-a care! I'll contribute everything I have, even if it's-a not much."

"Okay. Does anyvone else vant to join, as long as ve're at it?" Germany glanced up at France and Britain.

The two glanced at each other.

"Ehh… I don't think so, no," Britain said at last.

"If you really need us- zough I can't imagine what for- you can probably find us on ze beach."

Britain nodded. "You have our support and are thoughts, though."

France smiled and took Britain by the arm. "Now, if you'll excuse us… I have some _business_ wiz Arzer here I must attend to…" he laughed his signature France laughed, then added, "au revoir!"

"Wait, what?" Britain asked, alarmed, as France dragged him outside. France only laughed again in response.


	18. Passion

Hungary opened her eyes to the sound of someone knocking on the door of her room. She sat up and asked, "Vat? Who's dere?"

"It's me, Poland," sang the voice on the other side. "Russia wanted me to, like, bring you dinner… Is it okay if I come in?"

"Oh… of course, yes."

Hungary listened to the jingle of keys and the clicking of a lock, until the door opened and Poland stepped inside, carrying a tray of food.

Hungary's eyes widened as she stared at the tray. "Dat's more zen I've eaten in a veek!"

Poland smiled and shrugged. "I guess Russia didn't vant you going hungry." He laughed. "Hungary, hungry…"

Hungary smiled and shook her head at Poland's childish sense of humor. "Vell… zank you," she said, gladly taking the tray and digging in.

Poland stood and watched her for a minute. "So Ukraine called Austria like you asked," he said at last.

Hungary looked up, her mouth full. "Mm?"

"She said he didn't seem to care at all. I dunno, I just tought you might like to know."

"… Oh," Hungary said quietly after swallowing.

"I don't get vhy, though," Poland continued. "I mean… If I were him… I'd do everything I could to rescue you.

Hungary smiled weakly. "Thanks."

"Okay, so… If you don't need anyting else, I think I'm gonna go now… Peace." Without another word, Poland left. Hungary noticed with the tiniest glimmer of hope that he forgot to lock the door.

Then, of course, she heard Lithuania come and lecture Poland, reminding him what Russia would do to them if Hungary were to escape. She sighed in defeat as the lock clicked and the two pairs of footsteps got more and more quiet until she could no longer hear them.

xXxI'll bet you've been hoping I'd include the following part…xXx

France giggled like an overexcited schoolgirl as he dragged Britain back to the beach.

"Just what the devil do you have planned in that disgusting mind of yours?" Britain demanded. France stopped and turned abruptly, allowing his face to get uncomfortably close to Britain's. That is, it was uncomfortable only for Britain.

"I zink you know," he said softly. Britain raised a brow, and France sighed in agitation. "WE are going to have SEX," he yelled. Britain had known him _how_ long and still couldn't predict this?

"France…" Britain began, but France shook his head.

"I am FRANCIS. And you are Arzer," he said as he began to unbutton his shirt. "We are not nations anymore. We are just people, as far as I am concerned." "Fine. Francis… Didn't I say I wasn't ready for this sort of thing?"

"Oui, but zat was only because zere were ozer people around." Francis was now half, going on fully naked. He grinned and started trying to pull Arthur's shirt off. The Brit shoved him away.

"Bloody hell, man, control yourself!" he spat.

Francis laughed. "I am. Believe me… If I wasn't controlling myself ze best I possibly can, I would have been on top of you ze moment I first saw you on ze beach. Right in front of Italy and Greece."

"You're disgusting."

"You know you love it."

Arthur sighed. "Can't we just… take it slow?"

"Zis IS slow for my standards," Francis responded with a slight frown. "How much slower can we get?"

"Well," Arthur said thoughtfully, "we could start with this."

He took Francis by the shoulders and kissed him, slowly, passionately. Francis gladly returned it, and at the same time began to slide his hands down Arthur's sides. When was the last time he had actually made love, with foreplay and everything, rather than just molested someone? He couldn't even remember. He'd forgotten how nice it was.

"Je t'aime," he breathed when they momently parted for air.

"I love you too," Arthur murmured before leaning back in.

The events that followed were those of a typical yaoi sex scene, but on a beach. Use your imagination. I'm not ready to write that sort of shit. France is seme. Dream about it when you go to sleep tonight. Lolumad?

xXxSomewhere over northern North America…xXx

Canada peered down out the windshield of the plane at Nunavut below him. It was nice to be home, even if he was thousands of feet above the ground.

He sat back and looked over at Iceland, who glanced at him and smiled. Canada blushed a little and smiled back.

"so do you really think russia would attack me?" Canada asked after a while.

Iceland shrugged. "I doubt it," he said. "I don't think he'd turn to the Americas before he has complete control of Europe. But Sweden sounded pretty serious."

Canada nodded slowly. "yeah… we should still prepare, just in case…"

"What is this world coming to?" Iceland asked with a sigh.

"eh?"

"Right now, we're on our way to protect your home from a country who's supposed to be our own ally. How messed up is that?"

Canada shrugged. "i'm not a nation anymore because i was trying to keep my brother from starving to death," he said. "i guess everything is messed up nowadays."

Iceland looked at Canada, who gazed straight ahead with a melancholy look on his face. Sighing, Iceland shook his head.

"Canada… I don't think it's fair what they- what we did to you," he said reluctantly. "I mean… At first I was excited to be able to control somebody, but… I dunno. I think you'd be better off as your own nation."

Canada smiled. "thanks. i'm glad someone's on my side."

"I'm gonna talk to the Council about it," Iceland decided. "I'll but them about it until they give you your independence back."

"… couldn't you do that yourself?"

Iceland paused. "Huh," he said at last. "I think you're right. I think I can. Okay, Canada… You're free to go. As far as I'm concerned, I no longer own you."

Canada's eyes widened. "r-really? thank you! thank you so much!"

"i only have one request," Iceland continued. "Could… could we stay allies? Even outside the CNN?"

"iceland…"

"I'm sick of being alone." Tears were beginning to well out in Iceland's eyes. "Even though I have Norway… and I have acquaintances… I don't feel like I have any friends."

"iceland." Canada put his hand on Iceland's shoulder. "it's okay. i've been alone before too."

Iceland smiled weakly. "So… We can still-?"

"of course we can." Canada also smiled. After a moment's consideration, he leaned over and kissed Iceland on the cheek.

Iceland said nothing and took hold of Canada's hand. Both nations were still getting used to the sensation of having somebody, of not being utterly alone. And both were loving it


	19. Reunion

Apart from crawling uphill to escape the tide, Kiku had not moved for almost an entire day. He could probably stand if he tried, but he'd had no reason to until now.

Kiku looked up as he heard the roar of an airplane off in the distance. Scrambling to his feet, he staggered across the beach and spread his flag across the sand, hoping it would attract attention. He thought back to when he had been trapped on that island with the rest of the Axis. How had Ludwig solved that problem?

Remembering, Kiku set to work carving letters into the sand. He dragged his foot in a giant curve, spelling out an enormous S. Confound this Western alphabet, he thought as he moved on to the O, why did these letters have to be so much more simple than his own? Honestly, he should have thought about that when developing his own written language… and another S.

Exhausted, he let himself fall face first into the sand. He had made every effort he could. Now he could only wait and hope.

Not-too-far above, America searched the beach below frantically for any sign of life. He was flying dangerously low with no co-pilot, which was very much not safe, but he didn't give a damn.

Seeing a speck on the ground in the distance, America immediately started descending so that he would be close enough to tell what it was. He squinted and realized it was exactly what he had been looking for. Circling a couple times, America performed an emergency landing (something he'd gotten very used to doing) on the thin strip of sand, a short distance away from his goal. Kicking open an emergency exit, America hopped out and ran across the beach without a second thought.

"JAPAN!" he called as he approached the site. He found the fragile ex-nation face-down and unconscious. America dropped to his knees and turned Japan over.

Kiku opened his eyes and squinted up at him. "A-Amelica-san?" he gasped, smiling weakly, a few tears dripping down his face.

"Japan!" America sobbed. "I'm so glad I've found you…"

Kiku remembered something just then- something he'd realized earlier, and needed to know for sure. "Arfred…"

America's eyes popped open, and he looked at Japan in awe. "You… you used my human name…"

Japan nodded something and continued. "I… need to know someting…"

"Sure, anything. What is it?"

"D… do you… _rove_… me…?"

America's face softened. He paused, wiped a tear off his face, and took a deep breath. "Of course I do, Kiku," he said quietly.

Japan slowly reached up and caressed America's cheek. He closed his eyes and smiled contently.

"Kiku." America's voice brought Japan to open his eyes and look up at the younger nation's unusually serious face. "I love you more than I can remember ever loving anybody. I know you're a lot older and a lot smarter than me, and I know at one time you were my worst enemy… but… I love you. I… _I love you._"

Japan let out a long sigh and closed his eyes again. Eyes still closed, he furrowed his brow and frowned.

America blinked. "What's wrong?"

"I just remembered I'm naked," Kiku muttered as his face turned red.

"Oh, yeah… forgot you were so uptight about that sort of thing… we buried you this way, didn't we…?" Gently setting Japan's frail form down, America stood and looked around, assessing the situation. Finally, he removed his pants and grabbed the Japanese flag off the ground.

"Here," he said, holding them out to Japan, who sat up to take them. "You can wear my pants and wrap the flag around you like a toga or something. They'll probably be a little big on you… the pants, I mean."

"Arigato," Japan said quickly as he took them. Ordinarily, he'd probably be disgusted with the idea of sharing clothes, but he wasn't about to complain. After pulling on the pants, he stood up (with America's help) and tied the flag around his shoulder.

"Is China here?" Japan asked in confusion as he looked up at the plane.

America shook his head. "Nah, I just borrowed a plane from him. He couldn't be troubled to come save his little brother, apparently…" America stopped talking as Japan stumbled and almost fell over. It was hard for him to walk at all, let alone in America's incredibly oversized pants.

"I feer rike Amelican gang member," he mumbled as he toppled over and had to lean on America for support.

America laughed and scooped Japan up into his arms. "I guess I'll just carry you, then," he said good-naturedly as he carried Japan towards the plane. Taking Japan in one arm and holding him over his shoulder, he climbed up into the emergency exit, forced the door shut, and gently set the older country down in one of the first class seats.

"… Kiku?" he asked after a moment.

"Hai?"

"I… well…" America hesitated, then continued. "You… never said whether or not you loved me too."

Japan thought for a minute, then beckoned for America to stoop down to eye level.

"You… are much younger than I am," he began, choosing his words carefully, "and there is a rot you don't understand. We are both vely different from one anozer, and I don't think we will ever have much in common."

Alfred's face fell. "Oh…"

"However," Kiku continued with a smile, "I think I could rearn to rove you too."

America's smile immediately returned. "That's all I ask." He stood up and turned toward the cockpit, but Japan stopped him.

"Wait…"

"Hm?" America looked back and leaned down. Japan reached up, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him down so that their lips pressed together.

America, after a few seconds, tore himself away and stared at Japan in astonishment.

"Daisuki desu," Kiku said after a moment.

America blinked. "Is that 'I love you' in Japanese?"

"Sort of. More rike… 'I rike you a rot.' Rove is sort of a bigger deal in my curture."

America nodded and shrugged. "Fair enough." He slowly leaned back in and kissed Kiku again.

xXxMeanwhile…xXx

Russia was in a good mood. He had Hungary safely locked up (and somehow untouched by him), he was pretty sure he had broken one of Poland's ribs, and he was going out to seize and invade China.

"I will be back," he called cheerfully as he stepped outside, "and I will have China with me."

As soon as their master left, everyone sighed in relief, as if they had all been holding their breath throughout his presence. Poland immediately sat down, seething in pain, and Lithuania dropped what he was doing to tend Poland's wounds. Ukraine and Belarus rushed to check on Hungary, and Latvia and Estonia were left to take over their chores.

Blissfully unaware, Russia walked down the street and happily boarded his private jet, took off, and before long was flying southeast. He wondered what condition China was in… was he still alive? Had he gone insane? Either way, Russia assumed he would be very easy to take.

He had been flying for quite some time- he was now somewhere between Siberia and what had formerly been known as Mongolia- when the radar picked up an unidentified aircraft in the area. Any CNN member's plane would be sending off a specific signal, so Russia knew it was foe, not friend. It appeared to be a harmless commercial jet, so Russia figured it wouldn't cause too much trouble.

xXxBack where we left them…xXx

"Shit," America said under his breath, "is that a Russian fighter?" He sighed and grabbed the microphone. "This is your captain speaking, it appears we've come within range of a scary-ass Northerner… I'm afraid we're gonna have to take a slightly more south-er course, and we don't have any extra AC 'cause this plane's a piece of crap, so prepare to sweat your ass off."

After a minute or so, Japan entered the cockpit. "What do you mean by 'scary Northerner'?" he asked.

"Oh… right, you've been dead… See, the CNN's gone all crazy with power, and they've cut us all off, and pretty much everybody hates them. Especially Russia. I think he's trying to take over the world, the Red bastard… Just what is he doing way over here?"

They both watched as the jet faded into the distance. It was heading southeast.

America gasped. "He's going to try and invade China! we gotta get back to Germany right away and warn him!"

"Hai," Japan agreed, sitting down next to America. "I will be your co-pirot."

"No, you need to rest. Go back and lay down."

Japan shook his head. "I want to herp. You've been too kind to me."

America glanced at him and sighed. "Fine. I can't say no to that cute face."

Japan smiled smugly and settled down in his seat.


	20. Precaution

"So, what do you have in the way of military power?" Iceland asked Canada, who stood next to him on the recently formed Alberta coast.

Canada shrugged. "i dunno… an air force, a coast guard, a mountain police force- though that last one's mostly just for looks…"

Iceland sighed. "And all I really have is a coast guard and an air defense system… If Russia actually attacks, we're screwed."

"well… at least you have a coast guard… after all, i do have a coast that needs to be guarded…"

"Yeah, I guess I'll just start patrolling your west coast," Iceland agreed, "though I don't think that would do much good."

"russia's not an idiot," Canada pointed out. "if he at least saw that we were prepared, he wouldn't want to mess with us, because that would raise too much of a fuss, eh?"

"True." If Iceland was protecting Canada, he could easily call Norway for help. If that happened, before long, Russia would be at war with the entire rest of the North. And the last thing anyone wanted was to be at war.

Iceland stretched. "Okay.. So, I'll go back and take a boat back over, I guess… Call me if anything happens."

Canada nodded as they turned around and walked back to the airport. He hugged Iceland, who replied with a short and sweet kiss, then each nation boarded a separate jet. The Icelandair craft took off northeast toward Reykjavik, and the Air Canada plane headed due east in the direction of Ottawa.

Iceland would send his coast guard across the Arctic Ocean, around what was left of the former American territory of Alaska, and down the Alberta coast to patrol. Canada would reestablish Regina as the nation's capital (for safety's sake) and reorganize his military so that more power was in the west coast guard than anything else.

Canada was a little worried about the next CNN meeting. How would they handle being around Russia? Would he even be invited? Would Sweden agree with Iceland's choice to give Canada back his independence? The next meeting could easily turn the Northerners' already strained relationships into all-out war. On top of that, he was worried about America and Britain, as well as Germany and the rest of the world. Canada just sort of wanted to help everybody. Now he understood why America had always tried to be the world's policeman.

Arriving on the east coast, Canada landed and walked to his house. It felt so good to be home… He set to work packing up all his belongings and loading them into his jet, including the stores of maple syrup. He had his syrup back! Putting down the box he was carrying, Canada ran into the cellar, opened up a bottle and drank almost half of it straight, right there, until the sticky sweet substance made him sick to his stomach. Oh, God, the delicious flavor… SO much better than herring….

Realizing most of his prized possessions were still at Iceland's house, Canada took out his cell phone and called him.

"You need something already?" Iceland asked immediately upon answering.

"i… just… when you come back over, could you please bring my stuff?" Canada asked nicely.

Iceland sighed. "Fine. All of it?"

"yes, please… if you can…"

"Okay. Is that it?"

"yeah."

"All right."

Canada hesitated. "i… i love you…"

After a short pause, Iceland replied. "I love you too."

"'bye."

"Bless." Click.

Canada put his phone away and went back to work packing up his things. He smiled contently as he thought of Iceland. The nation actually cared about him- enough to go out of his way to protect him. And if Iceland was in trouble, Canada would drop everything and rush to his aid.

In this dying world, everybody needed someone. Canada had Iceland. And Iceland had Canada.

xXxBack in Europe…xXx

A couple days had gone by since America left to find Japan. In this time, what remained of Italy had essentially become an appendage of Germany's. Germany was just as serious and involved in politics and such as he always had been, but Italy was absolutely was absolutely always with him; often sitting on his lap or riding on his back, sometimes even letting Germany downright carry him.

Austria did nothing but sit and complain and worry about Hungary. When asked for an opinion or idea, he would immediately snap that he didn't know, and that if he did know, he wouldn't have come here in the first place.

China did his best to contribute everything he could to discussions, but he found himself too concerned about Japan and guilty for not accompanying America to contribute much.

France and Britain seemed to have meant it when they were going to stay on the beach. They had disappeared and not come back. Except for one time… France had shown up one day asking to talk to Germany in private. Accompanied by Italy, whose presence was automatically implied and often ignored, they went into Germany's bedroom and talked in low voices for a couple minutes. Finally; France had emerged carrying some questionable items, thanked a slightly flustered Germany (probably embarrassed for owning said items in the first place), and left.

Now China, Austria, and Germany/Italy sat around Germany's kitchen table, just sot of staring at each other. They'd run out of ideas. Russia was far too powerful, and Hungary wasn't worth the risk.

Suddenly, they heard a deafening roar. Getting up and rushing outside, the three-and-a-half nations made it out just in time to see a beaten-up old China Airlines plane crash into a dried-up field near Germany's house in a fiery inferno. Everyone stared, mouth agape; as a figure slowly lowered from the smoke and landed effortlessly on his feet, his parachute falling delicately behind him. Stepping forward, he proved to be America, all the while carrying Japan.

The common reaction from the group was pretty predictable- a combination of utter annoyance and astonishment. How could he do that? WHY did he do that? You're kidding, did he seriously just do that? That's so something he would do.

"Vat? How did you even…?"

"Vee~ that was-a so cool!"

"MY PLANE! What the hell? Why did you do that-aru?"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH DAMAGE YOU COULD HAVE DONE?" America smirked at this commentary. "What can I say? Maybe there's more truth to all my badass movies than you think." Gently setting Japan down, his face turned to concern. "China… We saw Russia on our way here… I think he's gonna invade your place."

China, who was in the middle of hugging Japan, looked up with wide eyes. "W-what?"

Germany put his hand on Japan's shoulder and smiled, and Japan returned the gesture with a small bow. Italy, from his perch on Germany's back, patted japan on the head and grinned at him.

America nodded. "It's true. Russia's after China now. This, I think," he added, turning to Germany, "means war."

Germany sighed. "Zen I guess it cannot be helped." Straightening up and furrowing his brow, he turned and faced the group (with Italy still clinging to him like a baby monkey). "Listen up. Between ze four of us, ve have essentially all ze vorld's non-Norzern military power. Now, if ve're taking on Russia-"

"We're gonna bomb his military bases, ambush his allies and capture his subordinates," America interrupted. "I'll-"

"Who put you in charge? I am clearly ze only vone here who knows anyzing about leading an alliance-"

"Oh, yeah, because your leadership worked out REEEAAL well in World War Two," America sneered.

Japan joined in. "Just because we rost doesn't make Doitsu-san a bad reader."

"Hey, that's-a right," Italy agreed over Germany's shoulder. "Germany was a great leader back in the war."

"CAN VE ALL PLEASE JUST FORGET ABOUT ZE VAR?" Germany shouted suddenly, silencing everyone. "Okay. I know ze Allies von. Und I know I might have made some questionable choices…"

"Yeah, that's the understatement of the century," America muttered.

"… but I promise you, I know vat I am doing. America, I don't zink you get vat ve're up against. Given how veak ve all are, Russia alone is a big enough challenge. But he's not alone. He has ze entirety of eastern Europe under his control, und he has everyvone on ze Arctic Circle on his side. Individually zey are each powerful enough to take vone of us out. So basically, ve are outnumbered und very overpowered." Germany fell silent, awaiting commentary or response.

"I still think I should be in charge," America said at last.

"VELL, YOU CAN'T, YOU SELFISH DUMMKOPF!"

"OH YEAH? SEZ WHO? WANNA GO?"

China stepped in between his two seething allies. He calmly held out his arms so that they couldn't reach each other. "You Western nations are always so immature," he said sternly. "China take charge. You can go home now."

America sighed. "Okay, Germany, why don't we try and run this alliance together?"

Germany took a deep breath as he tried to cool down his quick temper. "All right. Let's do zat." The two shook hands.

"So… You got a game plan?"

"Ja." Germany turned again to face the other countries. "I propose ve split up. Austria und I vill go to Russia's house while he's gone, fight our vay in und rescue Hungary. China und America vill ambush Russia ven he zinks he is alone in China's home. Beat him back until he retreats to Siberia- ve just vant him to know he'll have to fight to get China. Zat should discourage him."

After a moment's consideration, the nations all seemed to agree.

"But wait," Japan said, "what about me and Itary?"

"Ve~? Yeah, what-a will we be doing?"

Germany stooped down and slid Italy off his back. He turned around and took the little burnette by his shoulders, looking him deeply in the eyes.

"You are too veak," he said gently but firmly. "I don't vant to risk anyzing more happening to you. You und Japan vill stay here."

"But… But… I wanna help you…"

Japan comfortingly touched Italy's arm and smiled. "If we go with them, no one will be here to guard Doitsu's house," he said. "They need us to stay and… er… 'hold down the fort.'"

This seemed to reassure Italy enough. He stood on his toes to meet Germany's lips, then waved goodbye as the blonde took off down the road, accompanied by Austria. Japan bowed at China and awkwardly kissed America, then stood next to Italy while the other two took off after their Germanic allies. Smiling at Feliciano, Kiku turned and headed inside Germany's house, the Italian following after him like a lost puppy


	21. Safety

Finland sat silently and watched Sweden work. Ever since Sweden's confrontation with Russia over the phone, Finland had been sure Russia would come after him the very moment he found himself alone. He'd gotten into the habit of following Sweden around like a shadow. Wherever the silent Swede was, Finland was too. He ate with Sweden, he worked with Sweden, he slept in Sweden's bed… Sometimes he even made Sweden stand guard outside the door when he went to the bathroom. The more powerful nation seemed surprisingly okay with the way Finland clung to him. They had not spoke of their romantic encounter a few days ago, and even though they were always at close quarters, there was always a slight air of awkwardness between them.

"Is there anything you need?" Sweden asked in his usual flat tone, looking up from his desk.

Finland shrugged. "Not really, no… I'm happy just watching you."

"You're not at all bored?"

"Well… maybe a leetle…"

"Hmm…" Sweden glanced around his desk, then grabbed a small pile of blank printer paper and held it out. "You like to draw, right?"

"Oh… Thank you," Finland said, taking the paper and a pencil. Sweden flashed him a tiny smile before returning to his work.

Finland sat down on the floor and began to doodle absentmindedly. Most of what he drew consisted of unrecognizable shapes and distorted figures created by simply moving the pencil without really thinking about it. A few could be clearly identified as people and things, like a reindeer or a Norse god or Santa. After doodling for a while, Finland got an idea and grabbed another piece of paper to draw a scene developing in his mind.

The picture depicted a Norse goddess cowering in fear behind a god, who protected her from a menacing bear. Behind the bear lay a trail of dead bodies and a line of slaves chained to the bear's leg.

Looking up, Finland let out a startled squeak as he noticed Sweden standing silently over him, watching him draw.

"Thor and Sif, right?" Sweden asked, nodding toward the picture.

Finland nodded. "The bear has either keeled or enslaved everybody," he explained, "and now he's after Sif."

"Vhy a bear? Vouldn't it make more sense for Loki or somebody to be terrorizing people?"

Finland shook his head and pointed to one of the corpses behind the bear. "Loki was one of us- one of them, I mean. The bear comes from a completely different world. He got too beeg for that world, so now he's trying to take over ou- theirs."

Sweden knelt down so he was next to Finland and studied the drawing carefully. "How far," he pondered, "do you suppose Thor vould go to keep Sif safe?"

Finland shrugged. Sweden smiled- something he'd been doing more often lately- and softly kissed Finland on the forehead.

"He'd die for her," he told Finland. "She _is_ his wife, you know. I tink Thor vould do absolutely anything to keep her out of harm's way. And as long as Sif stays vith him, nothing can hurt her."

Without another word, Sweden stood and return to his desk. His words, though spoken with a completely emotionless tone, had been meaningful enough for Finland not to be scared anymore. Sweden wouldn't let anything happen to him. As long as he stayed with Sweden, Finland would always be safe.

xXxBack on the beach where we left them…xXx

Arthur awoke to his lover's voice cooing softly at him. "Wake up, mon cher, ze tide is coming in…"

He sat up, rubbed his lower back and looked at Francis. "My arse hurts," he complained.

"Zat should be expected," Francis replied with a smirk. "You were magnifique, by ze way."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, taking in the shame looming over him, then shook his head. "Oh, shut it."

"What's wrong?" the Frenchman asked, resting his head on Arthur's bare shoulder. "Didn't you like it?"

"I… would really rather not talk about it right now…"

Francis chuckled and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Arthur. The Brit sighed and squinted up at the clear blue sky.

"How long have we been out here?" he murmured.

Francis shrugged. "A day or two, I zink."

"Bloody hell! Were we… you know… the whole time?" The events of the recent past were all one big haze in Arthur's memory.

"Ah, so you don't remember eizer? Oui, I believe we were. Hours upon hours of unbridled passion and ecstasy…"

"Oh, God…"

"Zat's what you said!" Francis laughed. "Twelve times. I counted." Arthur groaned, pushed Francis off of him, laid back down in the sand and rolled over.

"I'm no sure zat's ze side you want facing me," Francis said with a snicker, scooting over to cuddle up against Arthur.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them. They both looked up to see Spain and Romano staring at them. Romano closed his eyes and shook his head, while Spain blushed and tried not to laugh.

Francis smiled and sat up. "Antonio, Lovino, bonjour, what a pleasure," he said happily, as if he was not naked on a beach with his his lifelong enemy in front of two of his brothers.

Arthur moaned. "Don't tell me this is about to become a family affair…"

"Non, zat won't be happening. I don't like to share."

Antonio smirked. "So, Francia, you're at it again… But with him of all people?"

"Oui, Espagna, so it would seen…"

Lovino grunted. "All right, froggie, where's-a mah little brother? You didn't make him join in, did you?"

"Of course not!" Francis thought, offended anyone would think he would do such a thing. "He stayed wiz Germany. It's actually a little creepy ze way he clings to him…"

"Oh, fantastico, now he's back with der Hasselhoff. Just what everybody here needs." This, obviously, was sarcasm.

Arthur sat up and looked around. "Where are my trousers?" he asked Francis. The long-haired (in fact, all-around hairy) man handed him a torn-up, sandy pile of fabric, which he gladly shook out and pulled on.

Glancing up at Lovino, Arthur cocked his head to the side. "You look a bit transparent," he observed.

The Italian looked down at his hands and realized he could see the ground through them. Antonio looked curiously at him, then at his own barely opaque self.

"Of course," Lovino sighed. "Mah brother gets-a to fully recover or whatever under the damn potato-eater's care, but not me, oh no…"

"It's still strange, though," Arthur commented. "I mean… You're almost as faded as Prussia, and he's been dead for ages. A few hundred years, I think."

"Prussia is a fallen empire," Francis explained. "Zey last much longer zen a country killed in a natural disaster."

"Ah. So we're not going to last much longer, are we?"

"Zat is correct."

Arthur thought a moment, then shooed Francis' brothers with his hands. "Bugger off, you two, we need some privacy."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Vamos, Antonio, let's-a go find Hercules. He's probably wandered up to Denmark by now."

The two turned and walked away down the beach. Arthur turned to face Francis and grinned.

"Life's short," he said. "… Do you think we can beat the tide?"

Francis laughed in his seductive manner and leaned in to kiss his beloved Brit.

xXxKolkolkol…xXX

Russia looked around as he walked down the abandoned streets of Beijing. Where was China? Why had nobody tried to stop him so far? He shrugged to himself and kicked aside one of the many bicycles that lay strewn about the city.

The plane that lay crashed into everything but the airport suggested that America might be here, but there was absolutely no one around. Russia supposed this meant he won, at least for now. Perhaps China was dead, and this was all unoccupied land for anyone (that is, for Russia) to claim.

Realizing his cellular phone was ringing, Russia sighed and pulled it out of his pocket. It appeared to be from home. He answered it and was immediately greeted by the sound of Lithuania screaming into the phone.

"MR. RUSSIA! Germany and Austria- attacking- capture back Hungary-" The sounds of gunshots and shouting were audible in the background.

"Well, do someting," Russia commanded in agitation.

"Like vat?"

"… I own as many guns as I do, and you eedeeots can't figure someting out?"

"Well… Ukraine and Belarus are holding dem off now… I dunno, Ukraine just told me to call you, so I called you, and I don't know vat to do…"

"Lithuania, stop being stupid and protect my house. If you can, lock dem up with Hungary." Russia hung up before LIthuania could say another word. So the lesser countries were revolting… He chuckled to himself. Those poor Germanics would be fed better in prison than in the richest parts of their own homes, and it would STILL be a living hell. Did they honestly think they could take on the great and powerful Russia?

He decided he would stay here and search for whatever might be left of China, unless he received another call and was needed at homje. Russia laughed to himself again as he pictured the weak and starving Germany and Austria struggling against his heavily armed servants. His house, he knew, was an impenetrable fort.


	22. Danger

If Austria hated leaving his house, he absolutely despised going to war. But Hungary needed him. This is what he kept telling himself as he and Germany prepared for combat and flew toward's the house of the Soviet Union.

Germany glanced at Austria, seeing the uneasy look on his face, and smiled comfortingly. "Bist du in Ordnung?"

Austria nodded quickly. "Ja. I'm fine."

Germany raised a brow. "Are you sure? You look like you're going to zrow up."

"Ja! I'm just… vorried about Hungary. Vat if ve fail? Vat if zey kill us or capture us or-"

"Beruhige dich," Germany ordered. "Panicking vill get you novhere. Ve are on a simple rescue mission, und Russia vill not even be zere."

Austria took a deep breath and sighed. "… You're right, Deutschland. Okay. Let's do zis. For Elizabeta."

After a minute, Germany cocked his head thoughtfully to the side. "Hmm… you und Hungary… You're just about ze only heterosexuell countries in ze vorld, aren't you?"

Austria thought a moment, then laughed. "I zink so. Isn't zat veird… I suppose zat's because zere are so few female countries..."

Germany nodded in agreement, then leaned forward in his seat. "Ve're just about here…"

"All right. I'm ready."

Landing, each nation grabbed a gun and hopped out of the jet. Germany insisted on invading in a civilized and orderly manner, and only doing so after one last attempt to retrieve Hungary peacefully. He rang Russia's doorbell and waited until Poland answered.

"Eek-! I mean… Oh, hey, what do you vant?" Poland asked somewhat casually, although the sight of Germany seemed to scare him a little.

"If you don't mind," Austria said, "ve vould like you to release Hungary."

Poland frowned. "Hmm… no, I tink Russia would totally keel me if I did someting like dat…"

Germany stepped forward and grabbed Poland by his shirt. "Zat vasn't a request," he said through gritted teeth.

Poland's eyes widened, and he gulped nervously. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, "b-but my boss is such a- LITHY! COME SAVE MEEE!"

In seconds, the rest of household's occupants appeared in the hall. Germany dropped Poland, who ran and hid behind Lithuania.

Ukraine approached the door and put her hands on her hips. "You two are not authorized personnell," she announced. "Leave my leetle brahther's house or face de consequences!"

"… Huhhave no fear?" asked Germany and Austria in unison, glancing up from her chest.

Ukraine rolled her eyes. "Look. EYES. UP. HERE. Now you go." She attempted to shove Germany outside, but he stood his ground.

"Ve're not leaving vizout Hungary," he said firmly.

Staring at Germany with narrowed eyes for a split-second, Ukraine whipped around. "Invasive maneuvers!" she spat. "Lithy, call Russia. Esty, Latvi, move Hungary to de cellar. Bela, you know vat to do. Poland, stay out of de vay. GO!"

Everyone immediately dashed off. Turning back to face Germany, Ukraine pulled a small pistol out of her shirt (where apparently she kept everything) and pointed it at him.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," she seethed, "to please leave. Now."

Germany slowly began to raise his own gun. Ukraine shot, and he leapt out of the way. Somehow leaping over her head, Germany turned and shot Ukraine in the shoulder. She immediately slumped over in pain. Austria stared at her in shock, unsure of what to do.

"Leave it," Germany commanded. "She'll be fine."

Now everyone was shouting, and everything was chaos. It now meant war.

"Roderich!"

Austria looked around frantically at the sound of his name. He saw Hungary struggling for a split-second before being dragged through another door. He moved to run after her, but Germany touched Austria's shoulder and shook his head.

"Ve have bigger problems," he said, nodding ahead of him, where Belarus stood heavily armed and wearing a psychotic grin.

"I MUST DEFEND BEEG BRAHTHER!" she screeched before flying at them, flailing her arms and the swords they held. Germany leapt into action, punching and kicking and shooting at Belarus, who darted to and fro with swift catlike movement.

Someone came up from behind Austria and wrapped a chain or something around his neck, trying to strangle him. He twisted around just enough to kick his attacker, apparently Estonia, in the shin. Estonia loosened his grip just enough for Austria to break free. He bumped into Latvia and found himself fighting off both at once.

Lithuania rushed out of the other room and helped Ukraine to her feet. She handed him her pistol and staggered down the hall, shoved Poland out of the way and entered another room.

Everything was a confused blur. Germany and Austria fought their way down the hall, surrounded by Russia's minions, who shouted at each other in tongues neither of them understood. Reaching the door into which Hungary was pulled, Germany opened it (though it was very heavy) and peered inside.

"Ungarn!" he called. "Wo bist du?" The door led to a flight of stairs, leading down into darkness. He heard no reply.

Belarus leapt onto him from behind, causing him to fall forward down the stairs. Austria kicked Latvia one last time and ran down after them.

The staircase led to a dark and seemingly empty concrete room. Scrambling to her feet, Belarus retreated up the stairs and slammed the door behind her, leaving the cellar in complete darkness.

Germany stood up slowly, leaning against the wall for support. "I zink I broke a rib or two…"

Austria shushed him. "Do you hear zat?"

They listened and heard a muffled cry. Following the sound, Austria bumped into its source, which sat tied up in a chair.

"Elizabeta!" he cried with realization, feeling for her face and peeling the duct tape off her mouth as carefully as he could in the dark.

"Roderich!" Hungary sobbed happily as Austria proceeded to untie her.

"Oh, Lizzie, es tut mir leid," Austria murmured. "Bist du in Ordnung?"

"Igen." Having lived with Austria for quite some time, Hungary most certainly understood German. "Oh, Roderich, I vas so afraid…"

Austria knelt down and wrapped his arms around her. He let her simply sob into his shirt. Hungary was usually pretty tough, and for her to be in such a state as this was a surprise even to her own ex-husband.

Germany staggered towards them. "Did zey hurt you, Ungarn?" he asked seriously.

Hungary shook her head, though it was too dark for Germany to see that. "I'm sure Russia vas going to, but he vas too busy and hasn't gotten time yet."

"Going to vat, exactly?" asked Austria worriedly.

"Vell… from my experience vith ze Soviet Union…" Hungary paused hesitantly. "… you don't vant to know.

She left it at that. Reaching up into the dark, Hungary felt Austria and used him as a support to stand up She felt around until she found his face, then kissed him.

"I hate to be ze bearer of bad news," Germany announced, interrupting them, "but I zink ve're locked in here."

Hungary pulled herself away from Austria's lips so as to speak. "Igen, I know. Coming for me in ze first place vas pretty hopeless. Surely you didn't expect to succeed."

"I'm just glad Russia himself vasn't here," Austria commented. "Zat vas bad enough…"

"Zey only defend him out of fear for deir own lives, you know," Hungary murmured. "Dey're as much prisoners as ve are. If zey disobey, all dat comes of it is more pain and torture."

"Vell, eizer vay," Germany said with a sigh, "ve're stuck in here… until Russia gets back."

Hungary thought a moment, then shrugged and kissed Austria some more.

xXxAnd all the way across the ocean…xXx

The water, Canada noticed, was right up to his old Ottawa doorstep. This worried him greatly. Iceland's home was pretty small; if sea level rose much more, it would be completely submerged, and Iceland would suffer the same fat of all the island nations farther south.

Canada sighed at these thoughts as he changed into his RCMP uniform. Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but smile admiringly at the way he looked in the bright red coat, with its shiny buttons and dapper belts. This uniform was one of the few things people recognized him for- apart from maple syrup and hockey- and he was damn proud of it. He put on his mountie hat and his tall boots and headed outside.

Clambering into his jet, Canada decided to call Iceland again. He was probably worrying for nothing, he told himself, but he just needed to be sure.

"H-hallo? What is it?" came Iceland's frantic voice. There was a lot of roaring noise in the background, and Canada had trouble hearing him.

"hey, i'm just calling to make sure you're okay…"

"What? I can't hear you! It's really loud here!"

"Are you okay?"

"WHAT?"

"ARE YOU OKAY?"

"I… um… Not really, no… - AAUGH!"

"What? What's wrong?" It was hard for Canada to speak this loud, even in a panic. How did America manage to talk in this tone all the time?

"It's fine. I just-" it cut out with a very loud noise, "- and there's a really bad storm-" more noise, "- not sure if I'm gonna make it down there…"

Oh, no. Oh, God, no. This was exactly what Canada had been afraid of. "I-is there anything I can do?"

"No, I don't…" Iceland paused as a loud crashing sound became audible in the background, much louder than anything before. "… Fjandinn! Canada, I gotta go. Bless." Click.

"iceland…" Canada whispered to himself, tears forming in his eyes. He began to cry as he imagined all the horrible things that could be happening to Iceland. "oh, maple leaf…"

He wiped his tear-streaked face and took off towards Saskatchewan. There was nothing he could do about Iceland but hope and pray that he was all right.


	23. Hatred

"All right! We're gonna kick his Soviet ass! Yeah!"

"… How did we even become allies-aru?"

America laughed and playfully punched China in the shoulder as they flew steadily east. "Chillax, will ya? Everything's gonna be fine. _I'm_ on your side, remember?"

"That's exactly why I'm worried," China said uncomfortably. America only laughed again.

China rolled his eyes and looked out the window. They were flying over Central Asia- No wonder it was so hot in here! If this region had been scorching desert before, one can only imagine what it was now.

America, who had removed his shirt about an hour ago, glanced at China. "Are you sure you aren't hot in that… thingy… you're wearing?"

"No," China insisted. "I'm fine-aru."

"I can see you sweating from here, dude."

"It is silk. Very cool." This he said while producing a paper fan from somewhere and fanning himself vigorously with it.

"Whatever," America muttered, turning his attention back to flying the jet. The next several hours were spent with little conversation, none of which was meaningful. Finally, America sat up and was alert. "'Kay, we're entering the territory Russia is most likely in right now." They both sat at attention as they flew over the North China plain, then circled around and prepared to land in Beijing.

"Are you sure we should just land?" China asked worriedly.

"What else would we do? We gotta find Russia."

Below them, the nation in question stood silently scanning the sky. He frowned at the plane and narrowed his eyes. Putting on a pair of headphones, he held up a device and pointed it at the plane to listen.

"Let me land it! You always crash and almost kill everyone-aru."

"Oh, lay off. I just do that to save time."

"China land plane?"

"'Flight' is my middle name, you know."

"China land plane."

"Hey, I INVENTED this thing, okay? I think I know how to drive it."

"China. Land. Plane! Aru!"

"Jeez, fine, be that way."

Russia removed his headphones. Of course it was these two. He turned and walked back to his jet and grabbed a big and, to be frank, scary-ass gun out of the back. Sitting down on a pile of rubble, Russia now could do naught but wait.

The plane, which was much older and lower in quality than Russia's, landed gracefully like a butterfly.

"Wow," America commented as he and China loaded themselves with weapons. "And I thought Asians were bad drivers."

"Can we just go already-aru?" asked an agitated China.

They exited their craft and began their search… but it was over before it could start. Russia was there, sitting right across a clearing with a content smile on his face.

"You!" China shouted furiously upon seeing him. "Go away now!"

Russia chuckled and shook his head. "Not unteel you come with me."

America stepped in front of China. "No way, man! Go pick on someone your own size!"

Russia stood, though he was a good few yards away, towered over both of them. "I tink both of you combined are about my size," he observed with an evil grin.

After a moment of glaring at each other, the three all simultaneously began shooting across the clearing. China darted this way and that with a glock in each hand, dodging Russia's shots, while America crouched behind piles of rubble and shot at Russia with a good-sized machine gun. Russia held some sort of high-tech bazooka thing and carelessly blasted shots at them with a psychotic grin. As China and America both fought to avoid being hit, they unintentionally spread further and further apart. China kept jumping farther away from Russia, while America seemed to be inching closer.

Suddenly close enough and caught in the heat of the moment, America dropped his gun and threw a punch in Russia's direction. The enormous country avoided it with ease and responded with a very powerful blow to the younger nation's face.

America was out cold.

xXxCliffhangers, much? You must hate me right now…xXx

Finland munched on a piece of buttered bread, marveling at how sweet Sweden liked his bread yet how strong he liked his coffee. He took a swig from his glass of milk and looked at Sweden, who sat reading a newspaper and sipping some coffee.

"Germany and Austria attacked Russia's house yesterday," Sweden said dryly without looking up.

"Oh?"

"It's here in de paper. They vere after Hungary, apparently… ended up in the same position as her."

"Ei…!" Finland gasped in disbelief.

"Ja. That's too bad… Dat Germany vasn't a bad guy."

"'Wasn't'? H-he's just Meester Russia's prisoner, isn't he? He's not dead," Finland pointed out nervously.

Sweden shrugged and took another sip of coffee. "Might as vell be. You saw Estonia at de meeting."

He was right. Estonia, as happy as he may have been to see Finland, had looked broken and lifeless. Lithuania had looked even more so. It was as if all hope for a better tomorrow had disappeared. Finland visibly shuddered as he imagined himself in Estonia's shoes.

Noticing this, Sweden looked up at him. "You know I von't let that happen to you."

"I know, but it steel scares me. I just hate Meester Russia so much…"

"Honestly, Feenland…. he scares me too." Finland looked up in surprise. Sweden's voice, of course, carried no emotion, as it always did. But his face… Sweden's face looked as if he had just remembered that he had feelings for the first time. "Tino… Every night, vhen you fall asleep, I lay avake for hours worrying. About you, about Russia, about everything. I can't hide you from him forever. Someday I vill have to turn around and fight. And if I try to fight him, I know he vill win. I… I am so afraid of that day coming…"

Finland stared at him, dumbfounded. He'd known Sweden felt strong emotions toward him, but it had never occurred to him that fear and worry were among these.

Sweden sighed and resumed reading with another gulp of coffee. Suddenly he glanced down, somewhat shocked, as Finland crawled up onto his lap. Finland wrapped his arms around Sweden's neck and nuzzled up against his chest.

"Kiitos," Finland murmured, unable to think of much to say, "for everything. Rakastan sinua. I love you. So much."

Setting down the newspaper, Sweden embraced Sweden and buried his face in his hair. Both closed their eyes and inhaled deeply, simply enjoying each other's presence.

xXxYou know you love the fluff…xXx

"How did she even get my gun?" Germany complained. "I didn't realize it vas gone until I tried to shoot ze door down."

"Mm," was all Hungary and Austria said in unison in reply.

"You've been making out for zree hours now. You really can't take vone little break to help me figure out how to get out of here?"

"You'll understand vhen you're older," Hungary mumbled.

"He's just upset because he's not vith Italy," Austria told her.

"Feliciano has nozing to do vith zis!" Germany huffed. "I'm 'upset' because Russia is going to come und pound us into dust!"

Austria sighed. "He _does_ have a point, you know."

"Shut up and kiss me," Hungary ordered him. He gladly obliged, much to Germany's agitation.

Suddenly a creaking sound at the top of the staircase was heard and the darkness of the room was broken. Squinting up into the light, Germany tensed as Ukraine and Belarus entered. They looked beaten up, though their wounds from the fight were all treated and bandaged.

"We are both armed," warned the older sister, "so don't try anyting."

Hungary quickly crawled off of Austria and they both sat up straight.

Germany scrambled to his feet in order to seem somewhat respectable. "Vat do you vant?"

"I'm here to apologize for all dis," Ukraine explained. "And my leetle seester…"

Belarus tilted her head and smiled in a way that deeply disturbed everyone in the room. "I'm here to apologize een advance," she said, "for what Beeg Brahther ees going to do to all of you when he gets home."

Austria raised a brow. "Vould you mind telling us vat exactly zat is?"

Ukraine shook her head sadly. "Dere's no telling. He could take you down to de torture chamber and put you on the Rack or someting, he could make you his sex slave, he could make you watch as he tortured Hungary… There's really no way of knowing. Just hope he shows some mercy and keels you."

"Stand up and turn around," Belarus commanded. Austria reluctantly did so.

Belarus smiled and looked up at her sister. "Oh, I tink we _do_ know what'll become of _thees_ one," she said. "… Do you tink he'll let me watch this time?"

"Vat?" Austria exclaimed, turning back to look at Belarus in horror. "Let you watch _vat_?"

Ignoring him, Ukraine shook her head. "He never lets you watch. Why would he now?"

"He did once."

"Are you sure?"

"Remember dat one time when Poland…?"

"Oh, yeah… I tink it was only because you were there, and he was in too beeg of a hurry to make you leave. Plus, it was Poland, and who cares about him? I don't tink it'll happen again. Anyway-" Ukraine turned back to face the prisoners. "Again, we're sorry. It really es just because we're terrified of Leetle Brahther…"

"I'm not," Belarus muttered.

"… You will be served three meals a day, unless Russia instructs us udderwise. I'll send Lithuania down to light dis place. Do pobachennya."

The sisters left, talking among themselves about Ukraine growing a backbone whenever Russia wasn't around. Slamming the door behind them, they locked the prisoners in darkness once more.


	24. Inability

China looked around frantically, realizing he was suddenly alone. Where had America gone? More importantly, where was Russia?

The air was full of dust, making it impossible for China to see past a foot in front of him. He staggered in the vague direction he thought he had seen America earlier, but a sharp pain in his side kept him from getting far. Had he been hit? Falling to his knees and clutching the wound, China glanced at his hands to find them covered in blood. He didn't even remember it happening. The wound wasn't very deep, so one of Russia's shots had probably just grazed him. It still hurt like hell, though….

"Privet, China," came an all-too-familiar voice. China squinted up at the enormous nation that approached him from the shadows. Russia smiled and leaned over to pull China to his feet.

"L-let go of me!" China said as forcefully as he could bring himself to. "I have America on my side-aru!"

"He is gone," Russia said cooly, not letting go of China's shoulders. "It is you and me now."

Gone? What did he mean? It was all China had in him not to panic as he was pulled up against Russia's chest. The larger country laughed and wrapped his arms around China. "You can come with me if you want to," he continued softly, "or I can drag you away by force. You decide."

China squirmed and struggled to break free, but Russia only tightened his grip.

"N-no… never! Get away from me-aru!"

Ignoring him, Russia ran his hands down China's small, frail body, but stopped halfway down to his waist when the smaller nation cringed in pain.

"You are hurt," Russia observed, frowning. Still holding China tightly with one hand, he used the other to unwrap his scarf from around his neck. "Hold steel," he commanded.

China did as he was told, too tired and injured to resist. He squeezed his eyes shut in discomfort as he felt his clothes being peeled off and the soft scarf being wrapped around his torso. Russia delicately bandaged the wound with unusual care.

"Why are you helping me?" asked China, looking up at him.

Russia smiled. "I don't want my new toy to be broken before I even get to play with it."

Without another word or any warning, Russia lifted China with ease. China immediately began to protest, though his efforts were in vain. Passing America, who lay passed out on the ground, Russia stopped and looked at him. The one country who, at least at one point, could have matched him power-wise now was completely at his mercy. Russia laughed softly and picked America up as well, slinging him over his shoulder. The unconscious nation moaned incoherently but did not come to.

China sat in Russia's arms, wide-eyed, trying his very best not to panic as he realized the direness of the situation- he and America were probably both doomed. Reaching his jet, Russia opened a compartment into which he tossed America. He then gently set China down next to the knocked-out youngster and shut the door, engulfing them in darkness.

"America," China whispered, shaking the country next to him. America did not respond, so China rose his voice and shook him harder. "America! Wake up-aru!"

"Mmm… five more minutes, Britain…" America mumbled, shifting a bit.

"AMERICA!"

"W-wha…? I'm awake!" America shouted, sitting up. "Where are we? What happened?"

"We failed. He got us."

"Shit." America rubbed his aching head, then felt around the inside of the compartment for a latch or some way out. He found none. After a moment's consideration, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, illuminating the area slightly. He glanced at China, who wore nothing but the scarf wrapped around him, even though removing his pants had been completely unnecessary on Russia's part. "Uhh… why are you naked?"

China blushed and covered himself. "Not my fault-aru, blame Russia."

America shrugged and turned his attention back to his phone. "Might as well see how the others are…"

He dialed and put the phone to his ear. Ring… Ring…

"Herro?" came Japan's accented voice that America had always found adorable. He was pretty sure he could hear Italy crying in the background.

"Yo, Kiku… Germany home yet?"

"Uhh… werr, you see, he-"

"(Give me that-a phone!)" shouted Italy, apparently taking the phone from Japan. "Ludwig isn't-a coming back because he's-a trapped at Russia's house!" he sobbed loudly enough that America had to hold his phone away from his head. Feliciano continued to blubber incoherently in Italian as Kiku took back the telephone.

"So… no, he's not home. Things didn't go exactry as we expected. What about you? Are you okay?"

"Not exactly… We're sort of in the back of Russia's plane right now… I think he's taking us home with him."

"Oh, no!" Kiku gasped. "Both of you? Is Yao there?"

"I am here," China said into America's phone. "He got both of us-aru."

"(What? What did he say?)" Italy asked.

"(Russia-san got them both.) Werr… is there anyting we can do?"

"I… I dunno. I don't think so," America said hesitantly. "But if you think of something, don't hesitate to do it. But… don't put yourselves in danger, either. We'll figure something out."

"A-are you sure? I could carr the CNN…"

"No, it's fine. But thanks, that does give me an idea." America smiled, even though he knew Japan couldn't see him. "Love ya, babe."

Japan hesitated. "I… um… rove you too?"

"'Kay, 'bye." America hung up and immediately dialed another number. China looked at him quizically.

"I gots me a plan," America said briefly as it rang.

xXxSomewhere far west of there…xXx

Canada jumped at the feeling of his phone vibrating. He fumbled around until he somehow managed to pull it out of his pocket without crashing the plane. "h-hello? iceland?"

"What…? No, dude, this is America."

"oh. what do _you_ want?"

"Listen, bro… I know I was a dick to you last time we talked, but I REALLY need your help…"

"just cut to the chase, al… why are you calling me?"

"Um… Could you maybe have Iceland arrange something with Russia? He's sort of got me and Russia captive…"

Canada sighed in agitation. "okay… first of all, i don't work for iceland anymore. he gave me back my independence. we, er… came to an agreement…"

America giggled. "Heh, so you an' Iceland, huh? That's hot."

"s-shut up!" Canada said, his face turning bright red.

"… But you're not denying it?"

"i said shut up! anyway… second, we're not really even allies with russia anymore. even the rest of the cnn is scared of him."

He heard both America and China groan.

"I… well…" America stammered. "… Isn't there anything you can do?"

Images of the day Japan died suddenly flashed through Canada's mind. He really wanted to make up for not even trying to save Japan, not to mention he simply cared about his brother, whether he was a douche or not.

"i guess… i'll see what i can do," he said at last. "but i can't guarantee anything."

"Okay… Thanks, bro. I owe you one."

"i haven't done anything yet."

"Whatever. Peace out."

Canada hung up, put his phone down and sighed. Now both Iceland _and_ America were in trouble. America expected him to rush to the rescue, and he didn't even know what was happening to Iceland. What was he going to do?

"hmm…" he said to himself, "i'll call norway. that's it. i'll land and get all my stuff done, then i'll call norway and ask him about it." Surely Iceland's big brother would be willing to help.

Canada leaned back in his seat and adjusted his hat, satisfied with this plan. As long as he remained calm and kept his mind clear, he would be able to think of something with Norway's assistance. He hoped.


	25. Worry

Kiku sighed as he put Ludwig's phone back on the receiver. He glanced at Feliciano, who sat on the sofa, crying into a pillow from Ludwig's bed. Kiku sat down next to him and gently patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "This is Doitsu we're talking about. He can purr through anything."

Feliciano sniffed and looked up at him. "Do you really think so?"

Kiku nodded and smiled, soothingly rubbing the Italian's back much like one would to an upset child.

"Ve~…" Feliciano sighed. "Well… what about-a your America? Aren't you worried about him?"

Kiku's smile faded. "I am," he admitted. "Very worried. Arfred may be strong, but he doesn't arways make the best decisions…"

Feliciano opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Now, who could that be…?" wondered Kiku as he got up to answer it. He opened the door to see a half-naked Francis carrying a sound asleep Arthur. The Frenchman widened his eyes slightly at seeing Kiku.

"Oh, bonjour, Japan," he said, stepping inside. "Good to see you're still alive-ish too. Is it okay if we stay here? Ze tide has come in, you see, and mon amour needs a place to sleep."

Kiku rolled his eyes. "Fine, but Germany isn't here, so it's not my faurt if he gets mad at you… if he gets back."

"Merci." France started in the direction of Ludwig's bedroom, but Feliciano jumped in front of him.

"Luddy's bed is-a for him when he gets back!" he cried. "Only I'm-a allowed to sleep in there, and that's-a just to keep it warm."

"Uhh… Okay…?" Francis shrugged and set Arthur down on the couch. The Brit stirred and rolled over.

"Spain isn't going to molest you, America… go back to bed…" he mumbled, still asleep.

"He is so cute when he's sleeping," Francis said with a smile as he sat down next to Arthur's feet.

Kiku entered the room and looked at him quizzically. "… Do I even want to know what happened to your crothes?"

"Non," Francis immediately replied, "you really do not."

Still sniveling, Feliciano also came in and sat down. He hugged his pillow tightly and made no sound but a pitiful squeak.

"I think I'rr go make some tea," Kiku said, uncomfortable with all the mixed emotions that hung in the air. Entering the kitchen, he flipped on the light and found himself staring into the blood-red eyes of a pale and transparent terror. It stared at him for the briefest of moments and fled without a word. Kiku staggered back, feeling as though he might faint, and rushed out. He was about to announce that he had just seen a ghost in Germany's kitchen, only to find said ghost standing in front of everyone with a smirk on his face and his hands on his hips.

"So," he said in an unpleasantly screechy voice, "as soon as mein Bruder is gone, his house gets filled viz dead countries?"

Francis rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Gilbert, are you mad because you didn't get a say in zis?"

Kiku stared at them in shock, his face whiter than Gilbert's hair. "Y-you know him?" he asked Francis in shock.

"Oui, of course I do. We were allies back when he was an empire. Mon Dieu, zat was so long ago…"

Gilbert laughed and sat down on Francis' lap, resting his feet on Arthur's head. Arthur moaned something about a unicorn but did not wake up.

"Get off of me, you buffoon," Francis ordered, shoving the albino onto the floor. Gilbert landed with a thud, accidentally kicking Arthur in the face on the way down, waking him up with a start.

Crawling to his feet, Gilbert looked at the way Francis and Arthur were gazing at each other. He began to giggle.

"Oh mein Gott, you didn't," he gasped with a smug grin. "I zought if zere vas one constant in ze vorld, it vould be France und Britain hating each ozer. Ah, how times change…"

A very confused Kiku shook his head and sat down next to Feliciano. The Italian continued blubbering and rocking back and forth with Ludwig's pillow.

Glancing up, both Francis and Arthur suddenly noticed the grim expressions on Feliciano and Kiku's faces.

"What's he matter?" asked Arthur. "Where _is_ Germany, anyway?"

This caused Feliciano to break out in a new fit of loud bawling, just after he had quieted down.

"Wait, what happened to him?" asked Francis, confused.

"Russia happened," Kiku said quietly as he continued rubbing Feliciano's back like he had been earlier. "To him, to Amelica, to China… to all of them."

The room's inhabitants sat in a grave silence broken only by the sound of Feliciano's sobs. All broken fragments of once-great countries, there wasn't really anything a single one of them could do.

xXx…?…xXx

Iceland coughed madly as he crawled ashore, sopping wet and freezing cold. If it hadn't been for global warming, he mused, he probably would have already died of hypothermia. In all his days of seafaring, he had never seen a storm like the one that had just passed.

Getting up and looking around, Iceland concluded he was most likely somewhere on the coast of Greenland. That was not the most pleasant realization ever, seeing how Greenland had been going on psychotic rampages the last time he checked. It'd had something to do with Denmark and polar bears, if Iceland remembered correctly. He sighed and started to remove his clothes so as to wring them out and lay them out to dry. Then he carved an SOS in the sand and sat down until he figured out what to do next. He scanned the horizon, but there was no sign of his ship- or any, for that matter- to be found. Iceland sighed and shook his head. Canada must be worried sick about him. And what if Russia decided to attack now? He'd crush poor Canada before you could say "You become one with Mother Russia, da?"

Oh, well… there wasn't much Iceland could do about it now. It would be nice if he could swim to Canada or even Norway from here, or if he had the means to construct a raft, but he wasn't very worried. Iceland shrugged, lay down and looked up at the parting clouds, surprisingly content.

xXxWow, that section was so much longer on paper…xXx

Greenland had been the only far-northern nation to go mad. Norway, however, was awfully close.

Aside from at council meetings, he absolutely never spoke. Even at meetings, when he had to, he contributed and said very little. Lately, Norway had been spending most of his time staring at himself in the mirror, sure that if he studied his dull blue eyes for long enough he would eventually unravel all of the answers of time and space… or something.

The only thing keeping Norway tied to his sanity between CNN meetings had been Iceland. But ever since the younger nation had gotten his hands full with Canada, he had also turned his back on Norway. This was perfectly acceptable, for it didn't matter now. Nothing really mattered. This was the conclusion Norway believed he might be heading toward with his little mirror-analysis.

The phone rang, distracting him briefly from his reflection. He allowed it to ring exactly three times before tearing himself away. And he had felt so close to the answer this time… Now he'd have to start all over again. Norway picked up the phone and held it to his ear, but said nothing.

"… hello?" came Canada's timid voice after a long silence. "is anyone there?"

"Ja," was all Norway said in reply.

"norway?"

"Ja."

"oh, thank goodness. see, iceland got caught in a storm or something and i don't know if he's okay, and i'm really worried…"

Norway hardly listened as Canada yammered on and on. Why did everyone insist on wasting time with more words than necessary? He would have gotten the point if Canada had simply said "Iceland in storm, I am worried." Now he had to wait for him to go on about emotions, America being in trouble with Russia, more emotions, half-baked plans….

"… so what do you think? what should we do?"

Norway thought for a moment, then spoke in the way he had recently decided everyone should speak. "I find Iceland. You help America."

"o-okay," said Canada, his voice sounding shaky and unsure. Norway glared at the wall as he listened in agitation. Never speak unless you are confident in what you are saying. "b-but how? what can i do to help him? this is russia we're dealing with!"

Norway shrugged. "Call Sweden," he suggested.

"okay. good idea. thank you, norway."

Norway said nothing.

"… eh? i guess… i'll… hang up now?"

Still nothing.

"okay… 'bye..."

Norway hung up and grabbed his coat, not thinking twice before setting out to find his little brother.


	26. Captivity

After the cell was lit, Latvia had come down to serve a bland but plentiful meal. Germany had attempted to escape, even though he knew Latvia was armed, but had only ended up being shot in the knee. Estonia and Lithuania had rushed in and dragged him away, scared that they'd be beaten if one of Russia's prisoners was injured by something other than Russia himself.

Germany awoke from sedation to find himself naked on a cold metal table. His entire leg hurt like the dickens, and seemed to be wrapped tightly in gauze. Attempting to move his arms, he found they were strapped down. That had been a good call on his captors' part. Where were they, anyway? Germany was alone in the sterile white room.

Listening carefully, Germany picked up a few voices drifting across the house. There seemed to be some sort of commotion going on… Germany's heart nearly skipped a beat when he realized Russia was home.

Russia entered to his usual welcome. He sent the three Baltics out to unload his jet, specifying NOT to open the back compartment (where he always kept his captives).

"Big Brahther," said Belarus worriedly, "what happened to your scarf? I don't tink I've ever seen you without it."

Russia smiled. "Not to worry, Natalia, it ees not lost, only being used temporarily for someting else. So… explain to me de situation, please?"

"Germany and Austria attacked and demanded we geeve back Hungary. Everyone fought hard to defend your house, of course, but I fought de hardest. And I'm de one who got them locked up, too. Ukraine got shot, but I made sure she vas okay."

Russia nodded. "You have done well."

Belarus beamed. "I'm so happy to hear dat." After a reluctant pause, she added, "… Well enough… for a reward?"

She gazed up at him pleadingly, but Russia stared at his sister with no emotion visible on his face.

"Just a leetle reward? Please?"

"… Perhaps," he said at last. "A small reward. I'll tink about it."

Ukraine approached him, drawing his attention away from Belarus. "Ivan?"

"Da?"

"There was a… small incident… you should know about," she began. "Germany tried to escape, and we tried to shoot him."

Russia's eyes began to narrow.

"B-but, eet was only his leg!" Ukraine quickly added. "It wouldn't have done you much good in perfect condition, anyway."

"Hmm… Who was eet?" Russia asked, glancing around the room. Nobody responded, so he repeated himself. "Who. Shot. Germany?"

"It vas Latvia," Poland said at last. Latvia, who stood in the doorway with an armful of Russia's things, turned white.

Russia stared Latvia down for an uncomfortably long period of time, then waved him away. "I will deal with you later." Turning back to Ukraine, he commanded, "Take me to Germany."

Still strapped to the metal table, Germany had to consciously keep himself from panicking as he heard Russia's footsteps approaching. He took a deep breath and told himself he had no good excuse to be afraid.

The door swung open, and Russia came in, signaling for Ukraine to stay outside. He carefully closed the door behind him, then turned his attention to Germany. The blond nation on the table felt his face go hot with a mixture of humiliation, terror and rage as Russia looked his [unclothed] body over. Germany studied Russia's face and glared at him in the most hateful manner possible when they locked eyes. Russia merely smiled contently as he loomed over his helpless prisoner.

"It ees wise not to show your enemy fear," he said softly, "but you do not need to hide eet around me. I can smell fear."

"I am _not_ afraid of you," Germany spat.

Russia chuckled. "Then maybe you should switch cologne."

He dragged a chair over from across the room and sat in it, right next to the table where Germany lay. "So, Ludwig-"

"Do NOT call me by mein human name." A human name was something only a nation typically permitted those of close, intimate relations to use, and Germany had no wish to be close or intimate with Russia in any way.

"I will call you by whatever way I want," Russia said firmly. Smiling again, he added, "and you will call me Ivan."

"Nein. Never."

Russia's smile faded. "You're only making eet harder for yourself, you know."

Germany took a deep breath and calmed down, realizing that losing his temper would do him no good whatsoever in his particular situation.

He sighed. "Ivan…" he began, choosing his words carefully, "do to me vat you vill. You're too much stronger zen me right now for me to be able to do anyzing to stop you. But first… could I just remind you of somezing?"

"I'm listening," Russia said slowly, somewhat intrigued.

"I know vat it's like… vanting to rule ze vorld," Germany continued with a sigh. "Ask any former empire, und zey'll tell you- it can't be done. Ja, true, some have come close, but sooner or later everyzing vill crumble down underneaz you. It vill never vork, und you know it."

Russia furrowed his brow and looked down, as if puzzled and concerned by what the smaller nation had just said. Finally he stood, without looking at Germany, and left the room.

"I'm going out to my sunflower fields," he called. "Please take care of Germany for me."

Shortly after Russia left, Ukraine entered the room and looked at Germany in astonishment. "You're steel in one piece," she observed, shocked. "Did he even touch you?"

"Nein… I zink he vas going to do somezing, but I took ze vind out of his sails somehow." Germany was almost as stunned as Ukraine at Russia's… lack of activity.

"Well, whatever you said, he must have taken eet very hard." She shook her head and smiled warmly. "Now how about I give you your clothes back and let you be with your allies?"

"Danke," was all Germany said, and Ukraine proceeded to do so.

Russia stepped outside of his manor and immediately felt something was wrong. Looking down, he remembered that he was without his scarf. He sighed and started back toward his jet. China needed proper medical attention anyway….

Opening the compartment, Russia immediately found himself dodging a gunshot. He cursed himself for not checking America for concealed weapons when he had been unconscious. America hopped out of the cramped space, China crawling out after him. The young nation leaped on Russia, tackling him with surprising strength. It actually took him a big of effort to throw America off of him.

The door of Russia's house swung open.

"Vat's going on? We heard gunshots," called Lithuania as he and the others peeked out. Seeing their master fighting America, they immediately armed themselves and rushed outside.

"America!" shouted China. "We can't take these odds! We must retreat-aru!"

"No way, man," America gasped as he struggled against Russia. "As long as I have friends in there, I'm not leaving 'till I get 'em all out."

"You too weak! It impossible!"

America sighed and glanced over at Germany's plane. Getting an idea, he darted away from Russia.

"I'll be back," he shouted over his shoulder as he ran toward the plane. "Don't think I'm chickening out, cuz I'm not. C'mon, China!"

China staggered after him, but was unable to keep up. Russia scooped China up into his arms as America jumped into the plane. America glanced back, saw China and was about to go back for him.

"No, go on, I'll be fine-aru," the older nation called quickly. America shrugged and took off.

Russia watched the plane go, then gently unwrapped his scarf from around China. Handing it to Latvia, he said sternly, "Have dees washed. Have Belarus do eet. She's de best at getting blood out of my clothing." She was also one of the only people Russia trusted to take care of his favorite scarf. Latvia nodded and took the ancient piece of blood-soaked fabric, handling it with extreme caution so as to not anger Russia.

China squirmed uncomfortably in Russia's arms, drawing the enormous nation's attention away from the scarf. Striding back inside, Russia entered the hospital wing (out of which Germany had just been pulled) and gently laid him down on the table. He strapped down China's arms and legs, even though the weaker country knew better than to try struggling.

"Yao needs medical attention," Russia announced. Ukraine and Lithuania entered and immediately began doctoring the wound. All the while, Russia stood over China and just… sort of… stared at him. China tried not to make eye contact with Russia, the situation being awkward enough for him as it was, but that was a little difficult when he was strapped naked to a table with Russia gazing intently at him.

Russia abruptly turned around and proceeded to exit. What Germany had pointed out had put him in such a mood that he needed a sunflower fix now, scarf or no scarf.

"What is up with him-aru?" asked China after he had gone.

"Who knows," Lithuania said wearily. Ukraine nodded in agreement.

China sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "So I am a part of this too now?"

"Eet appears so," said Ukraine with a shrug.

"Aiyah…"

"Our sentiments exactly."


	27. Meeting

Finland awoke as he felt Sweden stir and begin to get up. With an incoherent, half-asleep mumble, Finland reached up and grabbed his arm, not wanting to be left alone in the big bed.

"I have to get the phone," Sweden said softly, pulling away from Finland's grasp. He stood, stretched, and slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms before walking over to the ringing telephone and answering it.

"Hello? … Canada?… slow down. Vat?… Okay, just calm down…"

Finland squirmed under the covers, trying to keep warm without Sweden there to snuggle up to.

"… Just take a deep breath… Is dat better? So vat's this about Iceland?"

Finland sat up. "What? Is dere someting wrong with Icey?"

Sweden signaled for him to be quiet as he listened to what Canada had to say. "… Ja?…. Oh, nej…" He glanced at Finland with the tiniest hint of nervousness on his face. "… Okay, I'll- vait, America? What? Didn't I tell you you don't need to- … Oh. I see…."

After listening to the rest of the story and promising Canada he would call back with a plan, Sweden hung up. He sat back down on the bed, next to Finland, and sighed.

"What ees it?" Finland asked worriedly as he cuddled up against Sweden. "What's de matter?"

"Russia's at it again," Sweden murmured, looking down. "He's claimed all dat's left of the South. And on top of it all, Iceland is missing."

"Dat's terrible!" Finland explained. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Sweden admitted. "Norvay's out looking for Iceland right now… but I don't know vat to do about Russia…"

"You could do _me_," Finland suggested playfully.

"Again?"

Finland smiled and nodded, pressing up against the more powerful nation's warm body and wrapping his arms around him.

"Nej, not now," Sweden said. "Thees is serious. Ve don't have time to fool around."

"Aww, but…"

"Last night vasn't enough?" Sweden didn't know whether he should be offended that he hadn't satisfied Finland, or flattered that he still wanted more. Shaking his head, Sweden kissed Finland, then gently pushed him away. "We really need to focus on de task at hand."

"Fine…" Finland sighed in disappointment, got up and got dressed. "So, do you have any ideas?"

Sweden shook his head. "Nothing dat doesn't involve going to var."

"Hmm…" Finland couldn't think of anything either. "… When's de next meeting?"

"In about a veek. I plan to bring it up then, but isn't dere someting ve can do now?"

"Should we call Russia?" Finland suggested with much uncertainty.

Sweden shook his head. "Dat vill only make him angry.

Both now fully clothed, the two nations left the bedroom together. Finland staggered a little, finding walking a bit painful after last night's encounter, so Sweden scooped him up and carried him on piggyback. Entering his study, he set his beloved Finland down, immediately sat down at his seat near Sweden's desk. Sweden sat down at his desk, absentmindedly turned on his computer, and said nothing.

Finland spent the next few hours as he spent a lot of his time nowadays- silently watching Sweden work. He found comfort in how careful and focused the powerful nation was in his work. Knowing he was under the powerful nation was in his work. Knowing he was under the protection of this level-headed country somehow soothed Finland greatly.

After a while, they heard the doorbell ring.

"I'll get eet," Finland offered, but Sweden shook his head and stood.

"Eet could be Russia," he explained. "Besides, you need to rest… after… vat I did to you…" Sweden's voice trailed off, and he turned ever-so-slightly red, then cleared his throat and continued. "In fact, you should probably go back to bed."

The doorbell rang again. Sweden strode down the hall and opened it to find none other than America. The young nation looked thin and tired, and his clothes were ragged and dirty. All at once, Sweden realized just how bad a condition the world must be in if America of all people looked like this.

"Dude, Sweden, I know we're not on very good terms right now but I need your help," America said quickly. "Russia's gone and captured all my allies and I'm not strong enough to fight him off all by myself and-"

Sweden signaled for him to stop and beckoned him inside. America gladly obliged, relieved to not have to talk any more. He hated asking others for help. Sweden led him down the hall to his study, where Finland already sat, staring at them curiously. America took a seat in front of Sweden's desk, while Sweden returned to his chair behind it.

"Does Canada know?" Sweden asked monotonously.

"Huh?" America blinked.

"Does Canada know you escaped?" he repeated. "He seemed very upset."

"Oh! No, he doesn't… Mind if I call 'im right now?"

"Fine, just do eet out in de hall."

America leapt up and ran into the hallway, whipped out his phone and dialed.

"h-hello?"

"Yo, it's me. I'm at Sweden's place. I got away from Russia. Just thought you might wanna know."

"oh, thank goodness," Canada sighed. "i was so worried… i thought something awful had happened to you…"

America laughed good-naturedly. "Did you really think your ol' bro would go down that easy? C'mon, you know me. I can pull through anything."

"the fact that you think that is what worries me," Canada pointed out. "you think you're invincible, an all-powerful, and all sorts of things like that, but you're not."

"Chillax, Canadia, I'm fine. I've made it through all kinds of crazy shit before. That revolution…"

"america…"

"… that civil war, all those issues with slavery…"

"america?"

"… that world war, that economic crash, that other world war…"

"… alfred?"

"… wars with pretty much every country in Asia, that other economic crash, who knows how many natural disasters…"

"ALFRED!"

"What?"

"okay, you've made your point. but none of that means you're invincible. i just… i just don't want to lose you, eh?"

After a long pause, America sighed. "Okay. I get what you're saying. I'll be more careful."

"that's all i ask, al. that's all i ask."

"'Kay. Oh, crap, I gotta tell Kiku and tell 'im I'm okay…"

"okay, i guess- wait, what? japan? he's alive?"

"Oh, yeah, you didn't…? Apparently countries don't just die. They become, like ghosts or something until they fade away to nothing. I dunno."

This caught Canada's attention. "so… france is…?"

"Yup. I wouldn't be surprised if he was off raping Britain right now."

"… well, that puts a lovely image in my head…"

America laughed. "You're welcome. But anyway… I should probably go. See ya 'round, Matt."

"o-okay… 'bye…"

America hung up and quickly called Germany's house again. He let Kiku know that he was okay but Yao was not, then ended the conversation in a hurry.

Reentering the room where Sweden and Finland waited, America sat back down and casually crossed his legs. "Now, where were we?"

"You were asking us for help," Finland recalled.

"Ah. Right. Umm…" America paused and shrugged. "… So is there anything you're willing to do, or am I wasting my time?"

"Vell…" Sweden began.

"Tings between us and Russia have been tense as well," Finland piped up. He glanced at Sweden as he continued. "I mean- we want to stay at peace, but I don't know how long we'll be able to do dat…"

America nodded thoughtfully. "You know… The three of us together- plus maybe Canada- we might be able to take him."

"Perhaps," Sweden agreed. Finland also nodded in agreement, and without many more words, an alliance seemed to me made.


	28. Buildup

Norway scanned the water for any sign of his brother or the island he represented, but found none. He glanced at his navigation system. These were the right coordinates… He should be able to see Iceland's home right now. But he didn't. Which could only mean one thing.

Without a second thought, Norway turned his ship farther west and kept trekking on. At last, he saw a smoke signal on the horizon, and started toward it. The shore of Greenland… Norway just hoped Greenland didn't notice Iceland's signal before he did.

He dropped anchor and rowed ashore, finding Iceland asleep next to the bonfire he had made. He leaned down and gently shook Iceland, but the younger nation did not respond. Norway began to coo and whisper in ancient tongues neither one of them had spoken in hundreds of years (just because he was weird like that). Iceland still did not regain consciousness. Panic began to build up in Norway as he put his ear to Iceland's chest… and heard nothing.

"Nei," he whispered to himself. "Nei, nei, nei, nei…"

Norway quickly began thrusting pressure on his little brother's chest, blowing air into his passage, doing anything and everything he could think of to save him. Nothing seemed to be working…

Suddenly, without warning- Norway didn't even know what caused it- Iceland's eyes flew open and he began to cough madly. Norway immediately stopped and stared at him as he sat straight up, gasping for air.

"W-what happened?" Iceland asked in a shaky voice after catching his breath. Norway only shrugged in response.

Iceland shook his head in belief, still panting from the shock of what had just happened. "I… I think I was dead," he choked. "I remember… I saw them… but what _were_ they…?"

Norway stood and, without a word, picked his brother up. Iceland seemed to ignore him as he tried to comprehend his state.

"… and I feel different now," he continued, "like… less solid. I think… I think I might still be dead now…"

"You need rest," Norway said flatly as he gently set the younger nation down in his dinghy and began to row back to his ship.

Iceland eyed over the big steel vehicle. "Considering how you've been acting lately, I'm surprised you didn't use an old Viking longboat," he mused.

Norway climbed aboard, took Iceland to the cabin and lay him down in a cot.

"Sleep," he commanded before leaving.

Iceland smiled at his brother's concern. Norway may have been strange and hard to read, but he wanted the best for Iceland. The silver-haired ex-nation closed his eyes and drifted into a content, peaceful sleep.

xXxBack in the "Motherland"…xXx

Russia stomped down the dirt path, sunflowers growing in fields on either side of him. He had tried to relax and enjoy their cheerful beauty, but something at the back of his mind kept gnawing and nagging at him.

Without warning, Russia screamed in outrage and turned, kicking his precious flowers and destroying them, much like a child throwing a temper tantrum. He then took a deep breath and composed himself, looking around at the now dead sunflowers that surrounded him.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair that he would come close, only to lose everything. Russia hated to admit it, but Germany had been right. He would never rise to ultimate power. And even if he did, it wouldn't last long.

This, he remembered now, was why he had always been a heavy drinker. Russia had been trying to be sober for a short while now, but he decided right then and there to give up. His vodka was the only thing that had ever really helped. Having too clear a mind left Russia having to face ugly truths like this that only made him upset.

Russia shook his head and attempted to clear his mind. He had come here to relax, had he not? Bending over, he gently plucked a sunflower from the ground and examined it. Why did these plants make him so happy? Then again, if they made him so happy, why did he never feel happy? Emotions confused him so….

A cool breeze hit Russia's neck and caused him to shudder. He couldn't stand being without his scarf. Perhaps he should go inside and teach Latvia a lesson in treating prisoners, he thought.

Russia looked up at the clear blue sky and sighed. America was going to be back. And he'd probably turn all of Russia's allies even more against him than they already were….

"Leetle Brahther," called Ukraine in the distance. "Leetle Brahther, we've finished treating China's wound. And your scarf ees clean. Where are you?"

"Da, I'm over here, dank you," Russia called in response, turning to see her trotting up to him, bosom bouncing like a pair of rubber balls.

Russia had always liked his big sister. She was sweet and cheery, which a kind, motherly feel about her. True, at times she could be a crybaby and an airhead, but something about that was rather endearing. Plus, her chest made a very good pillow.

Ukraine's face fell as she noticed the destroyed sunflowers and the intense look on her brother's face. "… Ees everything okay, Ivan?"

Russia nodded and said nothing. He walked past his sister, anxious to get home to his scarf and his prisoners and his vodka. Ukraine knew better than to question his behavior any further, and simply turned and followed him home.

xXxWhat should I even put here…?xXx

"So… is Luddy okay?" Feliciano asked Kiku, looking up at him with big, wet eyes.

Kiku shook his head. "Arfred didn't say. I don't think he got into Russia's house."

"Oh…"

"But, you know, it's not rike he's arone in there," he continued quickly in hopes of comforting him, sitting back down. "China and those other countries are arr facing the same probrems as Doitsu."

"And besides, Italy," Arthur pointed out, "Germany's no idiot. And he's certainly not a wimp, either. I'm sure he'll be just fine."

Feliciano sniffed. "D-do you really think-a so?"

"I truly do."

Gilbert looked around, snorted and stood up. "You guys are all boring as hell," he remarked. "I'm gonna go torment Spain or somezing. Later, losers." He left, slamming the front door behind him.

Ignoring the obnoxious albino, Francis sighed. "Do you zink… zere's going to be anozer world war soon?"

Arthur shrugged. "I'd be surprised if there wasn't," he said softly.

"Would we even be able to participate?" wondered Kiku.

"Probably not. We're hardly even countries as it is," Arthur concluded.

"How depressing," Francis murmured.

Feliciano released a small squeak. Everyone nodded in agreement


	29. Suffering

"We'll catch him off-guard and ambush him," America was explaining into the phone, which sat on Sweden's desk on speaker mode. "That way, when-"

"i have a question," Canada interrupted from the other side of the line. "weren't we supposed to be trying to come up with a _peaceful_ solution?"

"We were," Finland told him, "but America pointed out dat Meester Russia eesn't exactly being peaceful himself."

America nodded. "That's right. We have to attack him before he attacks us. And since he already had control of everything else, his next target's probably gonna be one of you guys," he said, pointing at Finland and at the phone.

Sweden and Finland exchanged glances, and Sweden cleared his throat. "So vhen is dis going to happen, exactly?"

"ASAP… Just as long as it takes to get our armies and shit ready."

"i guess i should get over there, then, eh?"

"Yep. Get over here and bring all the military power ya got," America told his brother, despite his belief that all of Canada's armed forces were almost completely useless. Then again, he believed that _everyone_ was useless in comparison to himself….

"all right… i guess i should go now…"

"'Kay. 'Bye, bro."

"'bye." Click.

Sweden hung up his phone. "So… I guess ve should all get ready?"

America nodded. "I'll head back home real quick an' get all my shit together."

"And I vill go with Feenland to his home," Sweden said, standing up. Finland looked up at him gratefully. He was sort of afraid to go home at all, let alone by himself.

"All righty then… I guess I'll see you around." Without another word, America turned and left.

Sweden immediately picked Finland up. He squirmed in his arms.

"I can walk, you know," he complained, but Sweden ignored him and did not put Finland down. He carried his ally to the car, gently setting him in the passenger seat. Walking around to the other side, Sweden got in and started the engine.

"I vant you to sleep on de way there," he ordered.

"But…" Finland began to protest, then thought better. He remembered that Sweden was pretty stubborn. Then again… "But you didn't sleep last night either," he pointed out.

"But you need more rest than me."

Finland sighed, sat back and closed his eyes. "Fine… But wake me up when we get to de border."

Sweden only grunted in response.

xXxIn captivity…xXx

Germany spent the next few days struggling to learn all the routines of the Soviet household, looking for any possible opportunity to escape. He paid close attention to everything happening to and around the door, and what time everything happened, and what sounds occurred when from the outside world.

Austria and Hungary seemed to have given up all hope of salvation. Russia would send for one of them every now and then, and they would go up without resisting and take whatever was coming. They were both broken and defeated, with a dead glaze over their eyes. For some reason, though, Russia hadn't even touched Germany since his arrival. The blond would constantly pester his cellmates, asking them to describe everything that happened when they were taken out. Hungary would only look at him solemnly and shake her head. Austria would only start to cry.

China had technically joined them in prison, but he was not allowed to spend much time physically in the cell, as he seemed to be a favorite of Russia's. And on the rare occasion that he actually was allowed some time in prison, he always spent it alone in the corner, refusing to speak.

Right now was such an occasion. Austria and Hungary lay together, half asleep and half passed-out, although Austria's fingers twitched as if playing piano while his arms were wrapped around Hungary. China sat in his corner in the least painful position he could find, nursing his injuries and staring into space. Germany sat on a step halfway up the staircase, simultaneously listening and thinking. Why wasn't Russia torturing him as well? Could it be that the all-powerful master of the reformed Soviet Union _feared_ him for some reason? Was it what he had said about world domination?

The sound of footsteps above caught Germany's attention, and he strained his ears to hear the faint voices in the hall.

"Feliks, vat are you doing?" came Lithuania's panicked voice.

"Chill out, Toris," replied Poland. His voice was somewhat easier to hear- he was probably closer to the door. "I'm just checking on dem. I vant to see how Miss Hungary is doing..."

"Dat's no excuse. You can't go around doing tings to make Russia angry, especially not with how touchy he's been lately."

Their voices became inaudible to Germany as they walked off. So Russia had been in a bad mood….

"Germany," seethed a voice that sounded stunted by pain. Germany turned to see China looking up at him. With the one good arm that didn't hang limply at his side, he beckoned the blond over. Germany got up, crossed the room and sat down on the floor in front of him.

"Vat is it, China?" he asked, glancing over at Austria and Hungary to make sure they were still alive.

"Russia," China replied softly. "He… He has plans for you-aru…"

After a longish silence, Germany sighed, "… I see."

China attempted to nod his head, then winced in pain. "You have not been broken yet," he continued. "You… are strong enough to escape."

"I know. Zat's vat I've been-"

"Listen." Germany fell silent. China shifted a little, winced again, and looked back up at him. "When they next come to get me…"

"I already know vhere you're going," interrupted Germany. "Lithuania und Estonia vill drag you avay, leaving Poland to lock ze door. For a minute he vill get distracted und turn avay, leaving ze door unlocked. Zat is mein chance to get out."

"That's right." China marveled at how close attention Germany had been paying. "After that… hmm… the creepy one will follow them to Russia's room, so she won't be a problem…"

"Zat's a relief."

"… Shi. And the little one should be doing chores-aru…"

"Not zat he'd be a problem anyvay."

"… You might have a problem with… uh…" With his working arm, China gestured awkwardly at his chest, as if he had breasts.

"Ukraine." Germany sighed in anguish. "Und she'll call attention to me, und soon Russia vill-"

"But that's just it," China said suddenly. "If you raise commotion, everyone is confused. That is when you escape-aru."

"Hmm… Okay," Germany agreed, then frowned. "But zen… where vill I run? Switzerland is dead, Belgium is insane, France und Italy are undervater, und Herr Russia controls everyzing else."

China paused. "I hadn't thought of that," he murmured.

"Vat about Finland?" came Austria's frail voice. Apparently he had been listening the whole time.

"Anozer Norzerner? You must be joking," Germany scoffed.

"That might be your best option-aru," China pondered.

"Hmm… I'll zink about it," decided Germany.

Before he could continue, a click was heard at the door. It opened, and Latvia peeked in, followed by none other than Russia himself. The prison's occupants cowered down in fear as he entered, all except Germany, who stood up and faced him directly. Russia smiled and approached the proud German. Germany wavered slightly, fear flashing in his eyes, but puffed out his chest and stood his ground.

"I have thought about what you said," Russia told him, "and you are right. De more powerful I become, de farther I will fall."

Germany perked up for a brief moment. "R-really? You-"

"So," Russia continued, cutting him off, "I decided I should have all my fun while it lasts." His grin widened.

Germany took a deep breath. He had little to no idea what was coming, but he knew he wasn't going to like it. A part of him wanted to cry out and call for his Mutti, but that wouldn't help the situation at all, would it?

"Vatever you choose to do to me," he said bravely, "you vill not succeed in breaking my spirit like you did zem." He gestured toward his allies behind him.

"Russia chuckled. "Dis will be more entertaining than I expected."


	30. Calm

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh my God, I am SO SORRY for the delay. And I apologize in advance for the delay you will probably experience between now and chapter 31… I've been really busy, and working on some side projects, and I've had writer's block, and all this crap is going on…. Oh and also, if you don't get the chapter's title, it's "calm" as in "the calm before the storm"… STORM'S A-BREWIN'! This chapter doesn't really have much action or content, sorry, but there were a few little concepts I wanted to cover before shit got real. So here you have a really, really long chapter consisting of some emotional exchange, lots of America being stupid, and lots of people apologizing to one another. So, um, yeah, enjoy.

* * *

><p>America was nervous. He would never dare admit it to anyone, but he was actually kind of terrified. He remembered how he and Russia had warmed up to diplomatic, even friendly, terms after the end of the Cold War and the fall of the USSR. But as time went on, he recalled, America had found himself feeling a hint of paranoia whenever he was around the enormous nation. Something just seemed <em>off<em>. Eventually, when the new system of government had failed, Russia had decided to revert to his old communist ways (in a desperate attempt to prevent a civil war, the details of which will not be went into). He dragged all his old subordinates back home and reformed the Soviet Union, ending up more powerful than ever. America hated the idea of any country being more powerful than himself, he had realized. Russia's re-rise to power had actually had a very negative impact on America's self esteem, as he realized it could be _himself_ taking over the world, if only he wasn't so stupid.

Now he was afraid. He was about to go to war, with Russia of all people, and he absolutely could not afford to lose.

Sighing and shaking his head, America grabbed another box and opened it. He dug through its contents- machine guns, mostly- until he found a nuke buried in all the old weaponry.

"Ooh, I remember this one," he said aloud to himself. "Man… The damage I could do with this baby…"

Throwing the bomb into a box he had designated for its like, America stood up and looked around. His house looked like a tornado had been through it. Every inch was littered with old weapons he had dug up from his storage room; weapons that hardly worked, if at sat on top of a layer of garbage he was too lazy to pick up, and under that he knew were his actual belongings he had been too lazy to put away. It was like an episode of _Hoarders_….

Hearing the strangled squeak that had once resembled a doorbell, America picked his way around all his junk down the hall and opened the door.

"Well, hey, Canadia," he said cheerfully at the sight of his brother. "What can I -"

Canada stood before him in his RCMP uniform, holding an enormous bazooka-like thing that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. "so, uhh… last year at the cnn christmas party, russia gave us all these things," he explained. "i'm not sure what it does, and i don't know how to use it, but i figured it could probably be useful…"

"Dude, can I hold it?" America nearly squealed as Canada clumsily handed him the bulky weapon. He gazed at it in admiration, as if it was some sort of sacred relic. "It's so beautiful…"

Canada smiled meekly. "i thought you'd like it, considering how much you like guns… you can keep it, i guess."

"Really? Thanks, dude, I frickin' love you!" America somehow managed to give his brother a bear hug without putting down the gun.

"i-it's no problem," Canada stammered. "i guess we should go now, then, eh?"

"Sounds good." America briefly reentered his house and emerged with a big box of heavy weaponry. He grinned at the look Canada gave him. "Hey, I like guns. There ain't no way I'm going to war without overly preparing."

"… whatever. let's just go… i'll drive."

America walked alongside his brother in silence with his box o' guns. He squinted up at the sky, the sun beating down upon them. Damn, it was hot….

"this is it," Canada announced as they reached his jet. It was some sleek, foreign model that was unavailable in the US- America realized with a stab of sadness that this was because he no longer quite counted as a first world country.

"Sweet ride," he commented as they climbed in. "You've done pretty good for yourself recently, haven't you?"

Canada nodded and said nothing as he began to start up the craft.

"Wait." America dug a rifle out of his box. "Before we go, I wanna make sure you're clear on this stuff. So you hold it like _this_…"

Canada rolled his eyes. "i know how to work a gun, al, i've been to war before."

America snorted. "No you haven't…"

"yes. I. HAVE!" Canada began to raise his voice in a way that greatly discomforted his brother. "you always do this. you always make me look like your inexperienced little brother who needs your help with anything. I fought in the World Wars long before you- hell, I fought _against_ you once! 1812? I burned down the White House? Sound familiar?"

"No, I fought _Britain_ in 1812. You must be confused." America nervously tried to laugh it off as he put his gun away.

"i'm sick of this, alfred," Canada seethed, ignoring America's comment. "you've always treated me like i wasn't even a separate country. even now, when i'm a world power and you're not, i still feel like i'm living in your shadow. i'm… i'm just sick of it!"

America stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded by this sudden outburst, until at last he found words. "Mattie… I'm sorry. I… I didn't know you felt that way."

Canada looked away and said nothing.

"… I like your uniform," America tried. "You make a good mountie. It makes you look more… you."

"that's why i wore it," Canada muttered bitterly.

They sat together in silence for a while, Canada upset and America unsure of what to say.

"I'm sorry," America finally repeated, this time much more quietly. "I'm sorry for everything."

Canada looked back at America, who realized that the northerner was crying. "i-i'm sorry," Canada sobbed. "i… i'm just stressed out, and i'm sick of b-being ignored, a-and i'm-m s-s-so worried about i-iceland, and i'm so n-nervous about r-russia…."

America felt his protective big brother instinct kick in, the instinct that usually brought him to try to be the hero of the world. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, hugging Canada and stroking his hair. "You were right. I'm the one who should be sorry. Everything's gonna be fine."

Canada sniffed. "you really think so?"

"'Course I do," America replied with a smile.

Canada smiled back and was silent for a moment, then sat back up. "we should really get going, then, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Canada sighed and started up the jet. "sweden's gonna be mad that we took so long…"

America laughed. "Let 'im be. This whole thing was my idea, so I can take as long as I want."

"whatever," Canada replied with a smile.

xXxBack in Scandinavia…xXx

"Wake up, little brother, wake up…"

Iceland moaned and stirred, batting away the hand that was repeatedly poking his face. Norway only readjusted to poke his brother in the gut instead.

Opening his eyes, Iceland jumped at how close Norway's face was to his. "And they call France creepy," he spat.

Norway only shrugged in response. Iceland groaned and pushed him away. "Why'd you wake me up, anyway?" Before Norway could respond, Iceland looked around and answered his own question. They were in Norway's house- somehow, his brother had managed to carry him there from the boat without awakening him.

"Sweden called," Norway explained bluntly. "We're going to war."

"What? With Sweden?"

"Nei, Russia."

"Oh." So they were fighting _alongside_ Sweden. That made more sense. "… Does Canada know I'm all right?"

"Nei. Here," Norway said, handing him a phone.

Iceland took it with a grateful smile and dialed.

"h-hello? it's not a good idea to talk while flying, you know, so this had better be important."

Iceland smiled. It was good to hear that voice. "Hi, this is Iceland."

"wha-? oh, thank goodness! are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just-"

"(Is that your _boooyyfriend_?)" cooed America in the background.

"(what? no! i mean…) sorry, iceland, i'm stuck in a plane with america…"

"(Lemme talk to him!)" Iceland listened as America wrestled Canada's phone away from him. "Yo, Iceland… So have you banged mah bro yet?"

"W-what?" Iceland stammered, immediately turning bright ted. He could hear Canada in the background, protesting and begging America to return the phone to him.

"You know what I mean. Ooh, I bet you two did it in a hot tub, didn't you?"

"I don't…"

"(god, no, that's disgusting! gimme back my phone!)" Canada wailed. America laughed and finally obliged.

"i am _so _sorry," Canada told Iceland. "i… i don't even…"

America laughed again. "(Tell him he should… No, wait, give it back.)"

"(no way!)"

"(C'mon, just for a sec… ) Hey, Iceland… I need to ask you a favor."

"Uhh…" Iceland was a little worried about what was to happen next.

Trying very hard not to laugh, America continued. "… I need you… to fuck my bro."

"(WHAT?)" came Canada's voice, unusually raised.

"(C'mon, dude, you seriously need to get laid.)"

"JUst give the phone back to him," Iceland said flatly, ignoring the inappropriate (but rather appealing) images that were now floating around his head. That thing about the hot tub, especially….

"i… am… SO… sorry…" Canada said shakily once his cell phone was returned to him.

"It's… okay… it's not your fault," Iceland responded hesitantly.

America laughed. "(Hey, I was just trying to help. You two make a really cute couple, you know.)"

"… maple leaf," Canada squeaked miserably.

Iceland glanced up and realized Norway was still there, watching him intently. "… It's fine. Hey, I gotta go. I just wanted to let you know I'm fine."

"o-okay…" After a reluctant pause, Canada added very quietly, "… i love you…"

"(MATTIE AN' ICEY SITTIN' IN A TREE! K-I-S-S… uhh… SOMETHIN' SOMETHIN' T…)" America immediately began.

Iceland sighed. "I love you too."

"(… FIRST COMES LOVE…)"

"alright. i guess i'll see you soon, then."

"(… THEN COMES MARRIAGE…)"

"Okay."

"(… THEN COMES A BABY IN A BABY CARRIAGE…!…)"

"so… 'bye."

"(THAT'S NOT ALL, THAT'S NOT ALL…)"

"Bless."

"(… THEN COMES A BABY DRINKN' ALCOHOL!)"

Click.

After a moment's silence, Iceland looked up at Norway with an unamused expression on his face. "Why are you still here?"

Norway simply shrugged, then left the room.

Iceland sighed and looked around. The walls were covered in relics from Norway's days as a Viking- helmets and shields and weapons and such. Iceland smiled at a painting of the two of them. It depicted Iceland, as a small child, sitting on Norway's lap, with his big brother's helmet sitting oversized on his own silver head. Life had been so simple back then… You killed what you needed to eat, you built what you needed to live, and you burned down anything that got in your way. Iceland studied the smiling eyes of his younger self in the picture for a while, then turned away. Something didn't feel right. He felt strangely at peace, yet at the same time in horrible pain. What had happened during that storm?

Shaking his head and sighing, Iceland set the phone down on the table in front of him, then lay back and closed his eyes. He reflected on how much his brother cared about him, despite both their oddities, and eventually found himself drifting back to sleep.

xXxA little bit east…xXx

They had spent the night at Finland's house after getting what they needed, and now were back on the road. Finland, despite all the sleep he had been getting lately, had somehow fallen asleep in the car yet again.

Now slowly creeping back into consciousness, Finland became vaguely aware of music playing. After waking up a bit more, his half-asleep mind was finally able to identify it as an especially famous song by an especially old Swedish band.

_… Mamma mia, är jag där igen?… Nej, nej, kan jag inte vända?… Mamma Mia, du är här igen… Säg, säg, kan du va' den enda?…_

Finland stirred slightly, and Sweden immediately turned off the radio. Looking up at him, Finland noticed Sweden's face had turned a little red.

"Turn eet back on, I like dat song," Finland said drowsily.

Sweden remained silent, staring straight ahead.

"… Is someting wrong?"

"N-nej, of course not," Sweden replied at last. Was that hesitation in his voice? "That song just came on de radio. It's probably over now."

Finland shrugged and pushed a button. The song continued.

"Dis ees a disc," he observed.

Sweden did not respond.

After a moment, it clicked. Finland turned and looked at Sweden with a slight gasp. "Are you _embarrassed _dat you like Abba?"

Sweden turned bright red. "I-I _don't _like Abba," he protested, his voice a little shaky.

Finland snickered. "Voi Luoja, you so do!" he squealed.

There was a moment of silence- well, not complete silence, as "Mamma Mia" was still playing in the background.

"… I still have all deir albums," Sweden admitted at last. "And I still listen to dem. Often."

The nineteen-seventies had been a very long time ago. It was possible that Abba now counted as classical music. Very… flamboyant… classical music.

With a good-natured laugh, Finland rested his head on Sweden's shoulder. "Well, I promise _I _won't judge you for eet," he told him.

Sweden smiled, then (after a moment's hesitation) turned up the radio.


	31. Storm

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh my God. I am SO, SO sorry. This chapter has been KILLING me, I am so sorry it took so long, and I'm sorry I STILL somehow found a way to stall the climax for another chapter... I'll try to be faster with chapter 32… I'm sorry.

* * *

><p>Sweden, Finland, America and Canada all stood before the Russian border, each heavily armed.<p>

"What're we waiting for?" America said enthusiastically. "Let's go blow up this bitch!"

Sweden shook his head. "Not yet."

Looking around, Finland asked, "What's taking Norway so long?"

As if to answer his question, Norway appeared coming towards them over a hill. The Americas stayed behind as Finland and Sweden rushed to greet him.

"Where's Iceland?" asked Sweden, seeming concerned.

Norway shrugged. "Headed south. Should be back soon."

Sweden couldn't help but smile as he remembered when he himself had used to talk like Norway did now. Finland hugged Sweden with one arm and Norway with the other. "Well, I guess we just have to sit here and wait for him," he said with a cheerful grin.

So that's what they did. The five of them sat down on the ground and came up with a battle plan while they waited.

"'Ello, chaps!" called a familiar voice at last. They turned to see Britain waving as he approached them, followed by the rest of the group from Germany's house, as well as Iceland.

Canada leapt to his feet. "france! britain! you're alive!"

America also got up, and the two ran to hug the countries who had essentially served as their parents. After a second, America left his family and picked up Japan in a crushing bear hug.

"P-prease, ret go," Japan gasped, "I can't breathe…"

"Oh. Right. Sorry." America let go and glanced at Canada, who was now embracing Iceland. "Heh. I ship that."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Iceland separated from Canada and stepped forward, facing his fellow Nordics, who stared at him curiously. "On our way here, Norway and I ran into Denmark," he explained.

Finland blinked. "Denmark? But he's-"

"Dead. I know. I am too. We all are." He gestured toward the ex-nations who stood behind him. "I went with Denmark, and he explained this whole thing about how countries never die or… Anyway, we ended up running into Spain and some albino, who told us that a bunch of dead countries were staying at Germany's house. So I went there and found these guys, and they decided to come help with the war."

France nodded in agreement. "We can't really fight or anyzing, but we'd be glad to act as medics and such."

"Just go in there and bring-a Luddy back out, and I'll-a take care of him," Italy said anxiously.

Britain set down the bag he carried, pulled out a tent and began to pitch it. France and Japan both immediately began to help him.

"We'll set up a temporary base here," Iceland told the living countries. "You guys go in, and we'll hover around, ready to bring you back and help you."

America clapped his hands. "Alright. LET'S DO THIS!" Along with Sweden, Finland, Norway and Canada, he armed himself and stood up tall. "For Germany," he declared, "and China, and Austria, and what's-her-face-"

"Hungary," several people corrected him.

"- and Hungary. And for us," he continued, "and all our futures."

"Enough speech, just go already," Britain called.

"Fine. Let's go… FOR NARNIA!"

Canada took the liberty of smacking America upside the head.

"Okay, okay, let's just go.

xXxMeanwhile, not very far way…xXx

Russia petted his scarf- soft and nice-smelling from its recent cleaning- and took another swig of vodka. He sighed and looked around his study. There were flags, paintings, relics from ancient times, artifacts from the time of the original USSR, pictures of him with his WWII allies… On his desk sat a bouquet of sunflowers in a vase, next to which lay spread-out his map.

_Why?_ he asked himself. There came no answer. Russia sighed and stood up. If he wouldn't answer his own question, he would just have to ask someone else. Luckily, he just so happened to have left _someone else_ chained to the wall in a certain underground torture chamber.

Russia started toward the door and found it rather difficult to walk, swaggering this way and that, until he had to steady himself against the wall. He glanced back at the pile of empty bottles behind his desk and realized he had drank about enough to kill a large elephant. Good thing he had built up that "tolerance" to alcohol back when he had to drink to keep from freezing to death… Shaking his head to clear it, he continued walking in a slightly more composed manner.

Once out of his study, Russia made his way down the hallway with one hand trailing along the wall to keep him steady.

"Beeg Brahther?"

Russia turned and shot Belarus a cold, almost angry glance. "_What?_" he growled.

"I was worried about you," she said innocently. "You were een dere for so long-"

"Zatknis," he ordered, and Belarus immediately shut her mouth. Russia turned back around and kept staggering along the wall.

Belarus wrinkled her nose at the lingering smell of alcohol and fretted as she left to find Ukraine, still concerned for her brother.

Russia stumbled down one flight of stairs, then another, until he found himself at a big, barred door. He dug through his pocket, pulled out a ring of keys, and fumbled with it until he found a key that fit the lock on the door. Russia unlocked it, opened it and stepped inside the dark and dank room.

The man hanging by his arms on the far wall looked up and squinted at the light that suddenly filled his vision. "Ach, great, you're back to try und break me," he said harshly. "Vell, I assure you, it's not-"

"ZATKNIS," Russia repeated as he lit the wall-torch and clumsily slammed the door behind him.

"… Vat?" Between Russia's slurred drunken language and native choice of words, Germany couldn't understand what he had said.

"Shut up," the intoxicated nation translated as he made his way across the room towards him.

"How much have you had to drink?" Germany asked, raising a brow.

"I drink vodka like a real man," Russia mumbled as he staggered, "not beer like you…"

"I didn't ask _vat_, I asked _how much_."

Russia stared at Germany for a moment with an almost confused look on his face, then shook his head. He had come here for a reason, and that reason was not to be interrogated. "Why?"

Germany blinked. "Vhy vat?"

"Why… all dis," Russia said, gesturing to himself. If Germany didn't know better, he'd say he saw tears welling up in the world superpower's eyes. "Nobody likes me and everyting I do just drives dem further away… Half de time I'm not thinking, I just act… It's like someting else is controlling me…"

Russia dropped to his knees, continuing to talk… though most of his words were now in Russian and slurred by a combination of alcohol and tears. Germany stared down at the blubbering nation. Was Russia… trying to reach out to him?

Russia looked up at Germany with teary violet eyes. "… Well?" he asked shakily.

Germany just shook his head in shock. He hadn't even understood half of what Russia had just said, on top of the fact that Russia- Russia!- was actually _crying_….

Awkwardly clambering to his feet, Russia glowered at the nation on the wall. "I thought you of all people would understand," he muttered. "I thought we were friends."

"Nein, not since you vent verrückt und started trying to take over ze vorld!" Germany protested. "Ivan, open your eyes! Nobody vants to be your friend. Your own subordinates are terrified of you. Your own allies are probably plotting against you vith _my_ allies as ve speak. Vhy vould you expect your _prisoner_ to vant to help you?"

Russia opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, then thought for a moment. He began to cry again.

Suddenly, shouting could be heard above, and there was a pounding at the door. "Meester Russia, we're under attack!" screamed Latvia.

Russia immediately wiped the tears from his face, straightened up and looked alert, as if sobered by the promise of battle. He turned and leaned in close, too close, to Germany's face.

"_You will speak of dis to no one_," he hissed. Then he turned and left, scarf billowing behind him. Germany watched Russia leave, then found himself once again engulfed in darkness, knowing that above him something was happening.

* * *

><p>Cliffhangers, right? Pfft, you know you love me. Reviews make me happy~!<p> 


	32. War

"If you surrender," America panted as they fought, "we'll take you in and you can be free."

Lithuania shook his head and took another shot at America. "If we do not defend Russia to the best of our abilities, he vill kill us," he explained in a strangely gentle tone.

"Not if we win."

"Maybe so, but you'll never vin."

America rolled his eyes and twisted just in time to avoid being tackled by Belarus. She hissed at him like some sort of animal, then ran off in Norway's direction.

Latvia reappeared from wherever he had run off to and stopped to survey the scene. Over in the corner, Finland and Estonia were halfheartedly pretending to fight one-on-one.

"Please," Finland begged, "just surrender and come over to our side. I can't fight you."

Estonia delivered another weak blow in Finland's direction, one that Finland dodged easily. "I'm sorry," was all he could bring himself to say.

Shortly after Latvia rejoined the brawl, Russia himself emerged. He grabbed Latvia, handed him a ring of keys and told him to go to the weapon vault. Russia then whipped a machine gun out of nowhere and jumped in himself.

Noticing where the master of the house had come from, America got an idea. He fought his way over to Canada, who didn't seem to be doing anything at the moment.

"Hey," he panted, "I think one of us should scout around and see if we can find the prisoners. They'll notice me if I try to do it, but you might be able to slip outta here without being seen."

Canada responded with a curt nod and darted down the stairs Russia had come up. His virtual invisibility was finally an advantage.

America watched him go, then turned back to fight off Belarus again, shouting, "STOP TARGETING ME, YA CRAZY BITCH!"

Canada tried the door. To his surprise, it opened. Russia must have been in too big of a hurry to lock it behind him.

"h-hello?" he asked softly into the darkness. "is anybody in here?"

"Me, Deutschland," replied a familiar deep voice. "Who's zere?"

"canada. a bunch of us are here to rescue you. america, sweden…"

"Go get ze ozers first," Germany commanded. "Zeir cell is at ze very end of ze hall, on ze right…"

"but what about you?"

"Come get me later if you have time. I can take care of myself."

"i dunno… italy's out there waiting for you, and he was very specific about it being _you_ he was waiting for…"

Germany was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "Zat doesn't matter. Veaker nations should be your priority."

"o-okay…" Canada turned to leave, but Germany stopped him.

"Vait. If… you end up having to leave vizout me…"

"… eh…?"

"… Bitte… tell Italy zat I love him." Germany sighed.

After a short pause, Canada nodded. "i will," he promised, then left.

The world upstairs, by the time Canada returned, had become utter chaos. Apparently Latvia had returned from the weapon vault with all sorts of new toys. Things around the room were broken, nations were injured; and in the center of the room, America and Russia stood, locked in combat.

"Why?" America was demanding. "You told me at the end of the Cold War you'd never do anything like that again. If you ask me, this is like, that times ten. So what's this all about?"

"I…" Russia found himself briefly at a loss for words. "… I don't know."

"Whaddya mean, _you don't know_? Not even I'm that stupid."

"I mean just dat. I don't know," Russia said in a strange way, stopping to stare blankly at America. The younger country took this opportunity to punch Russia in the gut, causing him to stagger backwards. He quickly regained his balance.

"Well, what about you?" Russia demanded, glaring at America.

"What _about_ me?"

"Eef I remember correctly, you're responsible for dis whole environment crisis."

Canada silently slipped down the hall, unnoticed, as the two continued fighting.

"What? I thought that was China's fault," America said, seeming confused.

Russia laughed in a rather eerie way. "Typical America Always blaming someone else. At least I admit dat dis is all my doing," he said, waving his hand around at the currently half-conscious nations that livd under his command. "I wouldn't be so powerful in de first place, you know, eef you had not warmed my home with your wasteful ways, da?"

America briefly let his guard down as he tried to comprehend what Russia was saying, allowing the huge country to shove him to the ground. America tried to scramble to his feet, but Russia held the young nation down by resting a booted foot on his chest.

"So who ees really de bad guy?" Russia continued. "De monster, or de one who made him dat way?"

America did not reply; rather, he continued to struggle to get Russia's foot off him.

Canada returned at this point, having found the door locked and impossible to break down. Seeing his brother's current position, Canada panicked and leapt into action. He ran up to Russia and delivered a surprisingly forceful punch aimed at the back of his head. The impact startled Russia enough to throw them off balance, momentarily lightening the pressure on his foot and allowing America to slip out from under it. He crawled across the floor to where his machine gun lay, grabbed it and continued fighting.

Canada went over to Latvia, who sat propped against the wall, trying to stop the bleeding from a wound on his shoulder. He didn't even try to fight when Canada reached into his pocket and took the key ring from it. Seeing movement nearby, Canada approached Sweden- who was still very much conscious- and helped him to his feet. He handed Sweden the keys and wordlessly pointed down the hall. The tall Swede nodded and went in that direction.

Canada glanced back to America, who was now trying to use Russia's scarf to strangle him. Canada shook his head and continued going around the room, seeing who was badly injured and who could still help. Still somehow unnoticed by America and Russia, he grabbed Finland and dragged his unconscious form to and out the front door, leaving him to Iceland and the others to take care of. Darting back in, Canada helped Norway up, and the two of them went back to help Sweden.

They found him in the cell, checking its three occupants for life.

Hungary opened her eyes and looked up. "Oh, zank goodness," she breathed, "ve're saved."

Austria, who lay next to her, looked their saviors over and frowned. "Y-you're all norzerners," he said in a weak voice. "Eliza, zey're norzerners… zey've come to finish us off… Gott, zis is the end…."

"n-no," Canada said softly, "we've come to rescue you…"

Austria continued talking, and Canada realized he was delirious. Sweden said nothing and picked Austria up, nodding at Norway to do the same to Hungary. Canada went over to the corner where China sat asleep.

"china," he said gently, shaking the Eastern nation, "wake up. you're gonna be okay."

China's eyes opened slowly, and he just stared at the floor with a glazed-over look. Finally, without looking at Canada, he nodded and tried to stand. Canada helped China to his feet and allowed the weaker country to lean on him for support. After one last scan of the room, they all left and began to make their way to the front door.

"… Vhere's Feenland?" Sweden asked worriedly, looking around the room where Russia and America still fought.

"i put him outside with iceland. don't worry, he was breathing. oh and also, germany's in the chamber down those stairs, if you could go get him after…"

"Matt!"

Canada turned to see America struggling while Russia held him in a headlock. A shaking arm reached out and pointed to the pile of weapons in the corner. "G-get… me… a nuke…" he gasped.

Without thinking, Canada handed China off to Sweden and shoved them towards the door. He automatically grabbed a bomb from the pile… then stopped. This couldn't be the answer. Nuclear warfare had never gotten anyone anywhere.

"al, i don't…"

"JUST GIVE IT TO ME!" America shouted. He had somehow escaped Russia's grasp, and the roles in the headlock had reversed. "Hurry- he's really strong!"

Russia glanced over at Belarus, who was one of the few conscious people in the room, and signaled for her to do something. Before long, she too was holding an atomic bomb.

"You see, America," Russia said in a sickeningly pleasant tone, momentarily stopping his struggle, "eef I just snap my fingers, we will all be blown to smithereens. Now let me go, please."

"Fine," America spat, "but you need to promise not to try anything."

"I swear on your future grave."

He reluctantly released Russia, who stood up straight so that he towered over America. The two stood before each other, eyes locked, not daring to move a muscle.

"Mattie," America said slowly, not removing his gaze from Russia's piercing violet retinas, "bring me that bomb."

With only a slight flex of his fingers, Russia summoned Belarus to his side and took the nuke from her. Canada reluctantly stepped up beside America and handed him the explosive.

"One wrong move and you're toast," America said boldly, still attempting to stare the world superpower down.

"De same goes for you," Russia replied cooly.

Canada and Belarus exchanged glances, both realizing that their brothers seemed locked in a stalemate.

"al, maybe we could find a different way to settle-"

"SHH."

"Beeg Brahther, I'm not sure-"

"Silence."

Looking nervously at each other, Canada and Belarus both began to slowly back away from their obviously mentally unsound brothers and, seeing what was about to happen, took cover.

On both sides, something was activated and flung at the opposite country. There was a blinding flash, a deafening boom, and everything went black.


	33. Hope

He saw his life flashing before his eyes in that moment. Though short, it was full of violence. Every war he had ever taken part in—from the struggle to break free from his father, to the conflicted battle within himself, to the massive frays between everyone he knew—he saw everything.

But while he was shown the wars, the economic crashes, the natural disasters; what he truly saw was himself. He saw himself making poor decisions: being selfish when others needed him, helping others when he himself was in peril, butting into business that was not his own. He saw himself making the same mistakes multiple times… and this time, it appeared, he had done so with nearly fatal results.

The moment he made that revelation, Alfred was out cold.

xXx

Arthur coughed and covered his nose and mouth. He squinted into the dusty, polluted air, searching for… well, anything… but found this attempt to be in vain.

Struggling to his feet, the Englishman staggered in no particular direction, ignoring the dull ache in his core, until his feet collided with something. Arthur knelt down and felt the object. It proved to be a person. Feeling around the head and face, feeling the familiar stubble and long hair, he realized it was Francis. Without thinking, Arthur strained to scoop Francis up, heaved him over his shoulder and carried on.

A dark shape became vaguely visible ahead of him. Arthur found that it was what was left of the tent. He crawled inside and found it a bit easier to see and breathe. Laying Francis down on the floor, Arthur looked around to assess the situation.

Berwald appeared to be the only other conscious one there, and was fussing over Tino. Yao and Roderich both lay on the ground, thin and heavily injured. Berwald glanced up at Arthur, gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement, and continued to attend to Tino's injuries.

Suddenly, Kiku entered, dragging Elizabeta behind him. Without a word, he left her there and returned outside. Figuring he should follow the Japanese man's example, Arthur gently kissed Francis and also left.

"Japan!" he called, coughing, "where are you?"

Hearing an incoherent response, muffled by all the matter in the air, Arthur took off in the direction of Kiku's voice. He found him standing over three bodies—like the rest, it was impossible to tell whether or not they were alive.

"I think Norway went back for Germany," Kiku explained softly as Arthur approached him, "and Itary rushed to see them. I guess they didn't make it very far before the exprosion."

Without pausing to let Arthur reply, Kiku slid his hands under Feliciano's arms and hoisted the Italian onto his back. Arthur did the same to the Norwegian, then grabbed Ludwig's arms so as to drag him.

They reentered the tent to find Berwald examining the others, now that Tino appeared to be in stable condition.

"China's got a bunch of broken bones, but he's alive," the Swede reported. "Did CPR on France, he's okay. Austria's not breathing. Dunno about Hungary."

Without warning, Feliciano's eyes flew open and his entire body spasmed, knocking him off Kiku.

"Ludwig!" he cried, crawling over to where Arthur had left the German. "Oh, Germania, mi dispiace tanto…"

Berwald shoved the blubbering Italian out of the way and began to examine Ludwig. When Feliciano tried to throw himself on top of the German, Kiku gently pulled him away.

"AED, now," Berwald commanded. Arthur immediately grabbed the red case and handed it to the Swede. Berwald opened it, found it to be broken, and cursed.

While Berwald frantically began CPR and Feliciano screamed hysterically, Arthur checked on the unconscious Scandinavian nation he had brought in.

"Norway seems all right," he announced, finding a fairly stable pulse. After a pause, he added, "I believe I'll go find Iceland now."

Leaving the tent, Arthur searched the area until he found the island, unconscious, with a badly distorted leg. The Brit simply dragged him back to the tent, ready to help others recover.

xXx

Ivan awoke to the sensation of coughing.

It was a horrible, burning sensation; like there was some sort of animal in him, scratching at his insides; and the only way he could get it out was by hacking it up his throat and out his mouth.

Forcing his heavy eyelids open, Ivan saw red. After a moment's thought, he realized it was blood. Blood that he had just coughed up.

Looking around the room, the Russian forced his dazed brain to grasp at understanding what was going on. He saw Raivis, Toris, Eduard, Natalia… Everyone he knew, it seemed, laying on the floor unconscious. Glancing behind him, Ivan saw Matthew was also awake. The two briefly made eye contact—no emotion or communication; just blank, tired stares—until the Canadian turned and crawled toward his brother.

Ivan now became aware of the unbearable pain that seemed to course throughout his body. He opened his mouth to cry out in agony, but not a sound was uttered. The room spun, Ivan's vision became very blurred, and before he knew it he was unconscious once more.

xXx

_Al. Wake up._

**No,** Alfred thought, **just let me die here.**

_Al… Please…_

**Why can't you just leave me alone, whoever you are?**

_… oh, God, Al… Please wake up…_

Alfred awoke, but did not open his eyes. They hurt so badly, especially the right one… He became aware of his brother shaking him, begging him to be all right.

He tried to reassure Matthew, to let him know he was alive, but all that came out was a mangled groan. Luckily, this was enough to get the point across.

"oh, thank goodness," Matthew breathed, "y-you're alive…"

Alfred did not acknowledge his brother further, as all his attention had to be focused on trying to breathe. His entire body was in such indescribable pain. Even the slightest instinctual movement caused new agony; and a task as simple as breathing was nearly impossible.

Mathew suddenly coughed violently, much like Ivan just had, then eyed his brother over so as to judge the degree of his injuries. The American's glasses were shattered, and it appeared that some shards of glass had gotten in his eyes. The right eye was in especially gruesome shape.

"al…" Matthew began to sob, "oh, god, what have you done…"

Hearing all of this, Alfred tried once again to respond—to apologize, to comfort, anything—but all that manage to escape his lips was a quiet cross between a croak and a moan.

Matthew only began to cry harder.

Alfred took a deep, painful breath. Determined to reach his goal, he decided to force himself to that point by means of sheer willpower.

"M-Matt," he gasped, "… 's okay. We… we're gonna be okay."

Canada just stared at him with wide, teary eyes.

Ignoring the searing pain, America turned his head to face the enormous nation across the room from him, still not opening his eyes.

"H-hey, Russia…"

Alfred heard Ivan coughing for about thirty seconds straight as he awoke once more.

"Russia," he repeated, "n-no hard feelings, right?"

After a moment, the Russian gave a slight nod. "D-da. Dis has gone too far," he agreed.

"… Cool," America said softly.

Canada looked up. The ceiling was now a pile of rubble, and he could clearly see the sky.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear voices, letting him know his allies were alive.

Rain began to fall onto his face. It felt nice.

Somehow, he felt America was right. Eventually, one way or another, everything was going to be okay.

xXx

_~ Fin ~ Ende ~ Fine ~ __конец ~ Ioppu ~ änden ~ __終わり__~ Endir ~ Slutt ~ __结__束__~ Final ~ lõpp ~ Pabaiga ~ Beigas ~ End ~_

* * *

><p>Thank you all for your support! I couldn't have done this without you!<p>

This was my first-ever fanfiction, and I now see that I bit off more than I could chew. Towards the end, I honestly wanted to quit, and if I didn't have all of you counting on me, I would have. I'm actually just glad to put this behind me so that I can move on to greater, shorter, lighter, and fluffier things. But thank you all, so very much.


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